this love
by alice hattercandy
Summary: fifty thousand words of Ichigo and Orihime. 84: "It was his fate but he changed it. He only needed to believe."
1. flavory afternoon

**flavor**

"I wonder… what today's flavor is."

"What?"

He kisses her. And she blushes. This kiss is longer than yesterday's or the other day's, Tuesday's or last Monday's.

He smirks and licks his lips. "Chocolate-flavored lip gloss huh?" he says, looking at her from beneath his lashes.

"Eh?"

"Yesterday's melon."

"Eh?"

"The other day was grapefruit."

"EH?"

"Last Monday, it was caramel."

Her face is crimson, and her lip gloss is smeared.

"Tomorrow, what would it be?"

"Umm… it would be… umm…"

"Nah. I'd find it out myself."

…

"Mmm… Ah."

She pants, flushing brightly.

"Strawberry, huh?"

She smiles, hugging him closer. "It's my favorite."


	2. his and her heart

**burst**

I saw him. And it was amazing.

I saw him. And everything was colorful.

I saw him. And everything was loud.

I saw him. And I laughed.

I saw him. And my heart quivered with colors, sounds and laughter.

I saw a rainbow of colors, sounds, and laughter.

And when he touched me, I burst into colors, sounds and laughter.


	3. oh, hips

**figure**

He watches her, and he does it secretly. As he does, he wonders when do those perky breasts appear, or when do those legs grow _that _long or when does she become so…

He can't stop looking at those hips.

"What are you looking at?" asks Rukia.

"None of your business," he answers stiffly.

She quiets.

"You are really lucky."

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

Rukia stands in front of him. His gaze drops to her lips.

They are moving but the sounds are muffled. He catches the last sentence, though.

"And so is she."

And Rukia walks towards Orihime. As she does, he studies how different those two females are.

But, he can't stop looking at those hips, perky breasts, and long legs.


	4. eloquence is overrated

**confusion**

"I like you, too!"

"Y-you do?"

"Yup!"

"So… Movie. You. Me. Tonight?"

"Come again, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Movie. Tonight. Dinner. Tonight. You. And…"

"Ohh! We're going out tonight?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Amazing!"

"…yeah."

"I can't wait to tell Tatsuki-chan, Ishida-kun, Sado-kun, Kuchiki-san, Renji-kun, Toshiro-kun and Rangiku-san to get ready for tonight! Oh, I guess you can tell Kuchiki-san and Renji-kun! I'll tell Tatsuki-chan, Ishida-kun, Sado-kun, Toshiro-kun and Rangiku-san! What time do we have to meet?"

"…"

"…Kurosaki-kun? What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something – huh- oh?"

"HAHA! Please excuse us, Orihime!"

"Yeah! Wait for a moment, Inoue!"

"Tatsuki-chan? Kuchiki-san? Huh? What's going on?"


	5. and they lived happily ever after

**tower**

_Once upon time._

**i.**

He looks up. It is white and seems so far away.

He looks up and curses.

_In a far, far away land._

**ii.**

He looks up and keeps running.

Keep running.

Keep running.

He looks up. It is white and seems so far away.

_There's a princess._

**iii.**

Just like her.

A white supernova.

And far away from his reach.

_Hold on._

He runs faster.

_I will climb that tower using my claws. _

_I will tear down that tower using my power._

He can feel her.

She is waiting.

_I will make your fairy tale a reality._

**iv.**

Orihime looks over her shoulder.

_And there is a beast._


	6. she kisses like the way she breathes

**natural**

The first time he kissed her (or she kissed him) it was odd.

It felt strange (because, according to some shoujo-crap Yuzu often watched, the World said, 'you don't go kissing your friends' and it's a Universal Law, one of the Natural Laws).

Her lips touched his and he felt… he felt all zingy, and tingles – electric shock, static, thunderbolt, _whatever_ you call it – ran down all over his body, from his lips to the tip of his fingers, all the way down to his toes, before creeping up to his spine and tickling the back of his ears.

His lips quivered, and she smiled – how many boys did she kiss anyway? Why was smiling as though she was an expert? – Then, she let go of his collar before running off, leaving him gaping after her.

The fifth time they kissed, it was raining and they were under a waiting shed. She asked, _are you cold? _He replied,_ no, I'm not._ She smiled at him, that smile again, honey-sweet, pure and bright. And then she grabbed his collar and pulled him down.

He didn't resist.

The twelfth time, he still felt odd (but he enjoyed those kisses, he really did). He was kissing Inoue Orihime, you know, the Beautiful Girl, that lovely, lovely girl who can challenge fate and can make fate to fate you and him, you and her.

And the thirtieth kiss, a sweet, lingering kiss while standing on the crossroad, he realized that kissing Orihime was _really, really _odd.

But at the same time, it was natural.

As natural as breathing, as natural as the rain every June, as natural as the Universal Law of the Natural Law or the… snow every winter, the rainbow after the rain or the…

_Whatever._

He didn't care much anyway.

After all, kissing her… was really delicious.


	7. hands

**latch**

I look at his hand, large, warm and hard, and –

I look at her hand, small, thin and so damn fragile –

And we both tried to keep this connection.

Latching onto each other.

Harder, tighter.

"Don't let go."

"H-Hai."


	8. you break me

**system**

He should stop.

Kissing her is bad for his system. Touching her is bad for his system. Looking at her is bad for his system. Thinking about her is bad for his system. Wishing for her and happy endings and milky way and all the stupid things he seems to think of and make him gag and uncomfortable are bad for his system.

He should stop.

"Kurosaki-kun…"

He closes his eyes and presses closer.

But he can't.

And he won't.


	9. neon pink

**mittens**

I kinda like it when it's cold.

Why?

It gives me an excuse to be hugged by you.

... Well, I gave you my mittens.

Oh. Right. Hugged by Kurosaki-kun's mittens. Thank you.

Don't mention it. They look better on you, anyway.

…Really?

Yeah.

…

…After all, they're freaking, bright, neon pink.


	10. drops of snow

**powder**

Snow falls, fine like powder. As she lifts her hand to catch some, snowdrops fall between her thin fingers.

She grasps at the powdery snow.

But they slip through her fingers.

"Inoue."

She turns her head around, looking over her shoulder. Kurosaki-kun is standing a few steps away, watching her through his orange bangs. She smiles; he smirks back and draws closer to her.

He stops; he is so close that all she has to do is to turn around fully to face him and touch him. "What are you doing here? You're going to catch a cold, you know."

"Mmm…" she goes back to catching powdery snow with her bare palms. "I have strong immune system, Kurosaki-kun. I'm going to be fine."

He watches her lift her hands in the air, bare palms catching snow.

"You miss her."

His voice is quiet, neutral. She gives a bouncy nod. "Yup," Orihime turns her head around to look at him, and her cheeks flood with color when she finds him closer than ever, his warm breath fanning her cheeks. She stares at his scarf, wrapped around his neck. "Does Kurosaki-kun miss her too?"

He shrugs and steps closer, wrapping his arms around her. Orihime leans into his body, smiling as his body warmth envelops her. Ichigo hugs her tighter, pressing his cheek against the side of her head.

"Don't worry." He says, "You said that she's _the _snow, right?"

"Yes…" murmurs Orihime, gripping his wrists.

"Then, every winter, she's going to be here with you."

Orihime turns her face to the side, beaming, lashes lowered. His mouth is touching her temple. Her smile widens. "Kurosaki-kun is right as always!" She turns around in his embrace and hooks her arms around his neck. "I just wish…"

Ichigo understands her grief so he hugs her tighter.

Her small shoulders shake, she presses her face to his scarf, hands curling in his jacket.

He does not like it when she cries. But he lets her sometimes. Because he knows she'll smile afterwards.

And snow falls, fine like powder.

.

.

.

* * *

**note.** thank you so much for reading and your reviews! ah, the sun is brighter in my eyes, well, figuratively? XD so, review please, yeah? show some love, yeah? :)


	11. the black hole

**blinds**

Blinds.

It separates me from you.

Blinds.

It keeps me away from you.

Blinds.

It builds a wall between us.

Blinds.

Please, don't take my sunshine away from me.

_…_

_…_

_"_You're right on time, woman…to witness the death of the person you've put all your hopes into.___"__  
_

"… _Kurosaki-kun!_"

The blinds close.

And there is infinite darkness.


	12. a thousand letters

**circuit**

It is a never ending circuit of sadness, longing and desperation. Sometimes, I wish I can just stop and watch from the sidelines. That way, I'll know what's wrong and what's not. That way, I'll know and understand his pain.


	13. tonight, i give

**give**

Tonight, I give you my jacket.

Tonight, I give you my gloves.

Tonight, I give you my heart.

But you give me nothing at all.

.

.

.

* * *

**note. **double update. two very short pieces. i apologize. :)


	14. the perfect angle

**spot**

"Oi."

Keigo looks up. "Ah! Ichigoooo~ Wanna hang out with the Cool Guy?" The boy puffs out his chest. "Then, hang on me!"

"Idiot."

Keigo wails. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

"Shut up. That's my spot."

"What?"

"That's _my _spot. Butt off."

"But –"

Ichigo grits his teeth. Mizuiro decides it's time to intervene. "Asano-san, I think my spot provides more accurate angle. I can see Inoue-san perfectly from here." He smiles knowingly as his orange-haired friend stiffens.

"OYAAA! You're such a good friend! Blah! Ichigo, you can have _your _lame spot!" Keigo jumps up and makes a funny jig. Ichigo shrugs, sits down heavily, and stabs the juice box with a red straw.

Mizuiro, on the other hand, squeezes in between tall but gentle Sado and Ichigo who sucks from his straw with almost-violent gusto.

"Ah."

Ichigo snorts whilst sipping, sucking until the box shrank. Sado and Ishida glance at them. Mizuiro simply smiles, and Ishida shrugs and continues to sew.

"I see."

"_What?_" Ichigo is aggravated, not allowing himself to look up from his juice box.

"This spot is better."

There is a pregnant pause. And, then, "What do you mean?" asks Ichigo flatly. Mizuiro only smiles that says he knows something that Ichigo doesn't.

"MOU! YOU LIAR! YOU CHEATER! ALL I CAN SEE FROM HERE IS CHIZURU'S BUTT!"


	15. high technology love affair

**wallpaper**

"You're a stalker, aren't you?" says Rukia flatly one day.

"What?" snorts Ichigo, not looking at her.

Rukia produces a cell phone from her dress' pocket. Ichigo freezes and his face pales like paper.

"Wait… Hey! T-That's _my _cellphone, Rukia!"

The shinigami smirks evilly. "I know."

"'I know'?" echoes the aggravated orange-haired. "Give it back to me!" But Rukia dodges his flailing hands gracefully, her thin dress swirling around her slim legs. To Ichigo's horror, Rukia tosses the upper lid of his flip-phone. "RUKIA! DAMN IT!"

"Aha!" exclaims the shinigami triumphantly, grinning from ear to ear. Ichigo goes apoplectically red.

"GIVE IT BACK BEFORE –"

"Kurosaki-kun, what's wrong?"

Ichigo freezes up and turns around. "I-I-Inoue!"

"Hi!" Orihime beams, looks around and behind him. "Ah! Kuchiki-san~! Oh? You have a new cellphone?"

Rukia grins.

Orihime reads it as an affirmative. "It's so classy! A flip-phone!" The girl says and hurries over Rukia.

"Yes, it is." Rukia's tone is sweetly innocent. "But this isn't mine."

"Eh? It isn't?"

"It's Ichigo's." Ichigo cannot see her, but he knows her evil grin has widened.

"Sugoi! Congratulations, Kurosaki-kun!"

Ichigo spins around to face them. "Ah… yeah… Thanks."

"So," Rukia leans closer to Orihime, waving the flip-phone in front of her face. "Wanna see Ichigo's wallpaper?"

"RUKIA!"


	16. i'll be there

**notes. **1), thank you so much for reading and your 60 reviews~ thank you! 2) this collection includes drabbles, there are flashfics, there are short stories, there are AU's, there are three or four or five part drabbles, and poems and any other weird writing formats. So, please bear with me, my weirdness and shortness of some pieces. the target is: 50, 000 words. thank you again! :)

* * *

**dial**

Here she is, in the dark, alone and lost, but she holds up her phone – something he got for her despite her protests – and dials his number.

Spacing out, fantasizing, dreaming, she does not have to wait.

"Orihime."

She quietly squeals at the sound of his voice. He does not only taste delicious, he also sounds delicious.

"Ichigo-kun." She says in a sing-song voice, her pumps tapping the cobblestone sidewalk.

"Are you alright?"

She stops her dreamy skip. "Ehh, why do you always ask that question first?"

He grunts. "Are _you_ alright?" He insists.

"I am."

"…but?"

She pouts, but is impressed.

"I know you're impressed at my sixth sense. Complete your sentence."

She laughs first before continuing, "I got lost."

He groans. Orihime laughs her sweet, liquid honey laugh.

"I know what you're thinking. And stop picturing me naked."

She stops laughing, her face flushing. "I'm not –"

"Where are you?" he cuts in. She tells him. "Don't move. I'll be there in five minutes."

What she hears next is the dull sounds of dial tone. She stares at her plain, white and red flip-phone.

"Mou… Ichigo-kun's guesses are always right."


	17. the fail! tale

**note: **this is AU. enjoy! & standard disclaimer is applied.

* * *

**slipper**

She is dancing oh-so gracefully.

And he finds the sway of her hips mesmerizing.

Then, she trips, and his knee-jerk reaction is to laugh, but he stops and decides to stand up from his chair and approach her fallen form. "Are you alright, Miss…"

"I am fine." She gets up clumsily, with difficulty due to her dress' massive petticoats and without his help. "Thank you for asking, though."

He stares at her smiling face. She is… very, _very _lovely. Lovelier up close. It is almost… not right for someone to be this lovely.

He grunts and offers her his hand. "Let's dance."

Her eyes are gray, and big, and her lashes are ridiculously long. "Eh?"

"I said," he enunciates, "let's dance."

"But…" She squeaks as he takes her hand and places a hand on her hip. She looks up to the huge round clock and gasps. "Oh no! I must go!"

He scowls in confusion, "What –"

"Sorry, Scowl-san, but I don't want to turn into a pumpkin!" She turns around and runs towards the doors of the mansion. He gawks after her in disbelief.

…_pumpkin?_

And when Ichigo suddenly gets his senses back, he sees her trips again and falls on her face.

"Wait!" He shouts, but the girl does not look back as she scrambles back to her feet and dashes down the stairs. He follows but damn it, the weird girl is fast. "Damn it! OI! COME BACK! WHAT'S YOUR NAME?" He yells and comes to a halt. "Shit. That crazy woman sure can run… Huh?"

He bends down and picks up a tiny, faded slipper.

"What the hell. She's wearing _bunny_ _slippers _under that _gown!_"


	18. better than candies

**sugar**

_I should let her breathe._

He thinks with a smirk. He pulls away, only slightly, from her swollen, sweet-kissed lips.

"Ah… K-Kurosaki-kun…" She pants, her hot breath touching his lips.

He smirks. "Sorry, can't stop," he whispers, rubbing a thumb over her moist bottom lip.

She smiles as she tries to catch her breath. She unclenches her fists, smoothing down the creases on his uniform. But her eyes widen as Ichigo claims her lips again in a deep, hard kiss, and she does not have any choice but to cling again to his uniform as they exchange a frenzy of kisses, moans and tongues.

"Sorry…" He whispers again against her lips, his voice thick. He licks her lips, and she blushes hard, embarrassed but the girl presses closer, hugging him tighter. "Can't stop." He nibbles on her bottom lip, and she nips at his top lip shyly.

Orihime smiles, a hand on his cheek. "Me too…" She whispers, touching his jaw line. "Can't stop… Kurosaki-kun… tastes so good." She murmurs while nibbling on his upper lip eagerly.

Ichigo smirks, pulling her body closer until he could feel even the tiniest beat of her heart.

"Kurosaki-kun… tastes like sugar."


	19. stealing, glancing, watching

**discreet**

Sado is a discreet observer. He is quiet, but he speaks from his heart. He is content in watching people. Thus, he knows it when Tatsuki is consumed with this Frightening Great Desire to damage some head, you know, an orange-haired head.

He tries to say something to stop it or at least warn his friend.

But Tatsuki is fast. She is, really.

_Crash._

"WHAT THE HELL, TATSUKI! THAT WAS CLOSE!" Ichigo yells, barely dodging the makeshift missile in a form of flying chair as he jumps away from Orihime.

"T-Tatsuki-chan! What's wrong?" Orihime flails and clings to her arm worriedly. Tatsuki breathes, glances around at the faces watching her anxiously, curiously and, in Ichigo's case, with irritation.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" hollers Ichigo. "You… _threw a chair at me_!"

"Kurosaki-kun…"

Their eyes meet.

"And… And you…" Their friends blink as Ichigo struggles with his temper, holding back with a pained grimace. "Fine." They lift a brow, watching Kurosaki's famous temper crumble.

Orihime turns back to Tatsuki who still wears this look in her eyes. You know, the look that will make you think you're the lowest scum on earth and deserves to die a painful death.

Ichigo goes back to his chair and sits down heavily. As the world goes back to spinning and normalcy settles in, Orihime approaches Ichigo, stands close to his desk and calls his name quietly. Ichigo looks up from his palm, stares at her through his orange bangs, says something in return and leans back to his chair with a soft snort. Orihime giggles and her fingers fiddle with the hem of her sweater. She says something with a smile; he replies with a cocky smirk.

Sado quietly assesses the situation.

Orihime soon places a hand on Ichigo's desk, idly tracing a circle with her index finger; Ichigo starts to lean forward; Orihime says something. Ichigo's eyes lower to stare at the finger. His eyes are heavy-lidded as they trace over the girl's sleeve, up to the red bow and finally, their eyes meet.

The world seems to stop between the two, Sado thinks.

There is a gulp; lip between teeth; a fist curls; dazed gray eyes; heated brown stare and –

"LOOK I AM HAPPY FOR YOU, GUYS, but can you _please_ be a little discreet about it?" yells Tatsuki that startles Sado and Ishida, who's sewing a white cape, so much that he pricks his finger with a needle.

Sado watches Tatsuki curiously.

"This… this _eye sex _going on between the two of you…" Tatsuki makes motions with her hands, and Sado notes a faint pink on her cheeks. "Be… be discreet about it, yeah? Stop making I-want-to-fuck-you eyes with each other!"

A pregnant silence follows Tatsuki's rant. Chizuru is gaping; Orihime is blushing.

"Um," the martial artist begins, "Did I say…"

"Yeah. You did." Ichigo drawls after he recovers from shock. "You said 'fuck'."

Tatsuki cringes. "Damn it…"


	20. this is your final act

**notes. **yosh! my twentieth! thank you thank you thank you so much for reading, for your time and your 90 reviews: _Emuri, Alastor Vega, NaruHinaFanboy, SheWhoDaydreams, AvioNN, Rairakku Hana, Enelya87, MiszIceQueen10, Sweety8587, Sage of Downtown Hyrule, Beautiful Nightmare07, ichihime lover, Shorti3j3, Dm Tayashi, Fangirl12, rainy-lullaby, Yanaril, MaddyLovesL, Wandering the Arid Sea, VirgilTheart, MadLady, MellowDeez, Lafein, Vampire-Hime101._ thank you for your time. this is one of my favorites :)

* * *

**spotlight**

This is your final act.

_Help, Kurosaki-kun!_

Do your part.

_Is that… Is that really K…Kurosaki-kun?_

And make it last.

_Stop! Kurosaki-kun!_

Because this …

_She runs, crying out his name, hands reaching out to him. She is crying, oh, she is and it hurts and the sounds echo inside his head, somewhere inside him and inside his ears, breaking his heart, the hole hurts but his heart, oh his heart…_

…might be your last.

_Tensa Zangetsu flies._

_The skull cracks, the other half crumbles._

…

_INOUE!_


	21. cliché,

**birdhouse**

"I love you."

They are standing under a birdhouse when she says it. Ichigo is shocked, dumbfounded and he vaguely thinks that he must have looked dumb, exactly like the way he feels.

But his expression does not seem to discourage the auburn-haired girl. She is still smiling that honey-sweet smile of hers; she does not look embarrassed, but is really red, red like apples, and she looks… she looks really, _really_ lovely.

He wonders if it is right… or normal to be _that_ pretty.

"I…" He stammers and his frown deepens.

She smiles one of her many bright smiles. Unable to bear it, he averts his gaze, his frown strained.

"You're sorry."

He says nothing but it sort of confirms her statement.

"Me too," she says after a while.

At this he looks at her. She is looking up to the birdhouse.

"Me too,"

"Inoue, I –"

She turns and smiles at him, sweet and understanding. "But I love you. And it's alright." She takes one of his hands with both of hers. "I wasn't expecting anything from you."

He swallows and he realizes that there are lots of things he wants to say, so much that it kinda hurts because he has lots of things to say that he feels he's going to burst, and his heart – which beats like crazy, tap dancing inside his ribs – to burst with so much angst, strain, and maybe grief. And she… she has small hands. And she is really pretty, blossoming, lovely and –

"I'm leaving."

He stares at her, wide-eyed.

Her eyes are twinkling and there are no hints of sadness in those eyes. Oddly, this hurts him a little.

"And to be honest, I am glad that you don't…" she pauses, choosing her next words, but ends up telling him, "I'm glad that you don't love me back. Because I'm leaving and I'm not going to come back."

He manages a dumbfounded look. And it is his hand that grips hers, because really, what is there to say?

He can only cling to her, to that hand.

"So yes, this is cliché," He watches her hands let go, she steps away, walking backwards leaving him under the birdhouse.

The wind passes by, and her hair, her lovely hair, those thick red strands, they swirl, they twirl like ballerinas around her smiling face.

"I love you."

That smile, again, that makes her painfully lovelier.

"Goodbye."


	22. steps, hops and jumps

**note. **sequel to **twenty one: **birdhouse.

* * *

**hopscotch**

"You told him?" asks Tatsuki.

"Yup," answers Orihime. Tatsuki sits on a bench, watching her friend play hopscotch. She watches her, in case she trips and skins her knees. She knows Orihime won't cry – skinned knees would not make this girl cry. But there are things that can make her cry. Like how someone lost their mother, how a dog losses her baby.

"And…?"

Orihime does not answer, but continues. _Hop, jump, hop, jump._

"Orihime."

"Huh?" Orihime does not look up. And Tatsuki has this vague feeling that Orihime is hiding something.

But Tatsuki shakes her head, tells herself that she'll know the secret sooner or later. Orihime does not hide her feelings. But when she's happy, she smiles. When she's sad, she smiles. When she cries, she smiles.

"What did he say?" she changes her question into a blunt one.

Orihime hops and answers Tatsuki, "Nothing."

"What? Nothing?"

She hops, hops, and hops. "Yup."

Tatsuki is frowning now. Funny how a single, positive word can affect Tatsuki so negatively. "But did you –"

"It's okay, Tatsuki-chan." Orihime assures her. She stops hopping, picks up her marker and studies it between her fingers. It is autumn, and in maybe three weeks, winter will come. "I think it's for the best." She flashes a smile, tosses the marker – a coin – in the air and catches it.

"Orihime…"

She tosses the marker into the first square. It bounces out of the designated area; she pouts. "Tatsuki-chan, your turn!"

"I don't play –"

"Come on! It's our last hopscotch together!"

Tatsuki freezes up; Orihime is still smiling.

The dark-haired girl stands up, suddenly feeling tired, suddenly feeling battle worn even though it's not _her _battle but Orihime's.

"Are you really not going to come back?"

The auburn-haired girl does not answer, but she turns away from her, humming a tune.

"Orihime," Tatsuki bends down and picks up the marker. She chucks the marker; it lands on the first square, perfectly in the middle. Before she starts hopping, she looks at Orihime's back, watches the girl's frail shoulders, watches the little shaking, the breathy repressed sounds.

Tatsuki starts her turn. She finishes, but does not turn back, and speaks at nothing in particular.

"You're going to break each others' hearts, you know."

The sounds are louder now.

She looks over her shoulder. Her eyes soften as she watches Orihime drops down and hugs her knees.


	23. words from the old

**twenty one: **birdhouse**  
twenty two: **hopscotch

* * *

**sage**

Ichigo tries to forget.

He covers his ears, but the rain continues, outside and inside his heart and mind.

The words echo inside his head, inside his ears and the words won't get out of his ears, out of his mind no matter how many times he tries to wash his hair, listen to music, read Shakespeare, and watch Al Pacino.

"I understand, Ichigo."

"You fucking don't!"

"You are scared because for once, someone actually wants to be with you."

He fucking _hates_ his dad.

Damn it.


	24. he's here, umbrella in hand

**twenty one: **birdhouse**  
twenty two: **hopscotch**  
twenty three: **sage

* * *

**mailbox**

Everyday, since that day, the day she left for America, every morning, he waits by the mailbox.

He stays there until 8 am. Then, he goes to school, gets reprimanded because he is late, studies History, takes tests, eats lunch with his friends, tolerates Kiego, and watches the empty desk.

Everyday, junks, bills, cards arrive.

But no letters.

Just… junks, bills and cards.

But he tells himself, _maybe she's busy. Maybe tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow._

So, he waits.

He waits for three years.

He is studying to be a journalist, and then he becomes a writer. He is famous, you know, someone famous because he wrote a story. A love story. He becomes someone popular, and Tatsuki still teases him for writing a love story which ironically catapults him into stardom.

But after the teasing, there would be quiet and then, she will say, "You're still waiting, huh?"

He never answers, but he knows, Tatsuki understands.

After all, he still stands and waits by the mailbox.


	25. in the rain, we shine

**twenty one: **birdhouse**  
twenty two: **hopscotch**  
twenty three: **sage  
**twenty four: **mailbox

* * *

**lantern**

"He is waiting for you, you know."

"He is waiting and what are _you_ doing?"

"Nothing."

"If you don't do something now, he'd do something and I promise you, I'd support him."

…

…

"Tatsuki-chan…"

"Come back."

"I can't… I have a life here and I'm graduating this year—"

"You belong _here_. Don't be scared. Stop being scared of Ichigo actually wanting to be with _you_."

…

…

Tatsuki sighs at the dull sound of dial tone.

She looks outside the window and watches the lanterns from afar that glow in the rainy night of Tanabata.

She is a pragmatist, while Orihime is a dreamer, but watching the lanterns flicker under the pouring rain makes her believe that _indeed _the rain is preventing the magpies from forming a bridge between two separated lovers.


	26. 07:07

**twenty one: **birdhouse**  
twenty two: **hopscotch**  
twenty three: **sage  
**twenty four: **mailbox**  
twenty five: **lantern

* * *

**alignment**

The fifth year of Tanabata, the fifth year without her, a letter arrives in the mailbox.

It has three words.

Three words that sound better than five year ago's "I love you."

It says,

_I'm coming back._


	27. girls, girls, girls

**scandal**

"So," Mahana starts, "Did you know?"

Tatsuki looks up from her lunch. "What?"

Mahana and Michiru exchange nervous glances. Tatsuki notices this and says, "Come on. Spill." Ryo calmly turns to the next page of her little notebook. Mahana chews on her lip. Michiru shrugs. Chizuru sniffles.

"Come _on. _What is it? And what the heck is wrong with you, you psychotic lesbo?"

"Hey, _show me some respect!_"

"What respect?"

"CRUEL!"

"Whatever. Oi, what is it?"

"Well…"

Tatsuki's eyebrows are twitching in impatience.

"Apparently, there's a photo going around," says Ryo.

"Eh? It's just a photo. What's the big deal?" snorts the karate champ.

"A photo of Orihime-chan–" Mahana says.

"Huh?"

"—with Kurosaki –" Michiru supplies.

"On _your_ desk." Ryo finishes flatly.

Tatsuki spits out her drink.

"Oh." Ryo looks up. "You _didn't _know, did you?"

"Oh Hime-chaaaaan~! What has he done to you?"


	28. maybe, maybe you'll miss me

**twenty one: **birdhouse**  
twenty two: **hopscotch**  
twenty three: **sage  
**twenty four: **mailbox**  
twenty five: **lantern**  
twenty six: **alignment

* * *

**collapse**

He didn't practice, you know. But at the back of his mind, somewhere, he practiced what to say. He tried, that was for sure.

"So," Nevertheless, he stumbled over his words. His courage wavered like the way a building danced during the Great Hanshin earthquake, like a baby who was learning to walk, like a bird being blown away by the zephyr.

"Kurosaki-kun."

He closed his eyes. That voice, her voice. He tried to breathe in, breathe out. And his courage, at the sound of his name from her lips, like those dancing buildings, collapsed.

"You know," She continued softly and Ichigo knew she was unaware that she caused an earthquake inside his heart. "You don't have to try so hard."

He opened his eyes. He found her looking up to the birdhouse above them, perched on a tree branch. The same birdhouse five years ago.

He swallowed hard, _hard, hard _and tried to gather his courage – those tiny things, you know, broken little things.

"I never said anything back. I never tried." He said, his voice low, a deep rumble.

"Like I said five years ago," she did not look at him as she said this, "I wasn't expecting anything from you." She paused, "I _never_ expected anything."

He didn't know what to say after hearing that. It sort of hurt him that she never expected anything from him, you know. He knew she was too lovely, and she was too kind, too… _too much_. And her heart had too much love in it that it didn't need his feelings to fill it.

"I…" She paused, still looking up to the birdhouse, her words stumbling, soft, her voice quiet and breathy, "I have this theory, you know," Her voice was quieter now. "If I put some distance between us,"

It was silent, fractured by quiet flapping of wings.

"Maybe… Maybe you'll miss me."


	29. and it's you, for a long time

**eternal**

"Ne, Kurosaki-kun," He does not make a sound that tells her he is listening, but Orihime knows Kurosaki-kun always listens to her. He does not have a choice. She is talking to his ear.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"No." His tone is lethargic.

She cocks her head to the side, watching his face, his diaphanous closed lids, the thick – too thick for a boy – lashes, his lean nose. "In Forever Love?"

"No."

"Eternity?"

"No."

"…"

"…Inoue?" He opens his eyes slowly and he looks at her, frowning a little in question. He tightens his hold around her waist, that tiny thing.

"Then, what do you believe in, Kurosaki-kun?"

He stares at her for a few heartbeats. She flushes a little, holding his gaze for as long as she can. Then, he closes his eyes. The window is open, and wind floats in, tousling his hair, her hair.

"For five lifetimes and more, you'd still choose me."

Her eyes flare and her heart, _oh her heart_, is singing a love song, a prayer.

"You know, don't you? I don't use words such as 'forever', 'eternity'… those kinds of stuffs." He continues in the same voice, still with eyes closed.

Orihime giggles. "I know. Those words are too girly for Kurosaki-kun."

A few heartbeats pass again before Ichigo opens his eyes. He looks at her through his messy locks of hair. "But I'll tell you: I'll stay with you for a very long time."

Slowly at first, she smiles until she is grinning, teeth and gums that Ichigo grunts, averts his gaze as though her smile is blinding him, looking put-upon. And then, she laughs that loud, tinkling, honey laugh of hers.

"What's so funny? I said something sappy and you laughed? That's pretty hurtful, you know? At least hurtful to my pride."

"I'm sorry," she apologizes after she regains her breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh."

"Liar." He says but he does not mean it. "Why did you laugh anyway?"

"Mmm… I just realized something."

His eyebrow lifts. "Should I be worried?"

She pouts, "No."

"Still, I want to know. Even though the chance of understanding your logic is impossible,"

Orihime snuggles closer to him, and Ichigo lets her, because it gives him an excuse to be closer to her.

"…'for a very long time' is the same as 'forever', ne?" she whispers, eyes half-lidded as she watches the curtains dance in the breeze.

He does not respond, only clutches her closer.

Only when she's half-awake and half-dreaming, he allows himself to say,

"Yeah, maybe."


	30. his stories in orange ink

**notes. **-flails- thanks very much for your reviews! sorry, can't make a list but i appreciate your time to read and review! they make me happy, ridiculously so. this is my 30th, wazzah~ i have 50 more to post to beat the challenge, so yesh. :D thanks again!

**twenty one: **birdhouse**  
twenty two: **hopscotch**  
twenty three: **sage  
**twenty four: **mailbox**  
twenty five: **lantern**  
twenty six: **alignment**  
twenty eight: **collapse

* * *

**ink.**

Five days after that, Tatsuki and Uryuu got married. Orihime is the maid of honor. She is lovely in white, but Ichigo prefers her in black. White reminds him of Hueco Mundo, a reminder of his failure. But he chides himself: he rescued her, right? It wasn't a failure. But still…

"Ichigo," He blinks and looks down.

Rukia is invited because Tatsuki thinks she is a friend. She thinks everyone is a friend as long as you're Orihime's friend. Plus, Tatsuki is grateful. Rukia makes Orihime smile, Rukia makes Orihime mature, grow and strong, Rukia listens to Orihime. Rukia understands Orihime. So, Tatsuki is grateful; Orihime needs more friends (even though she is slightly suspicious of Renji.)

"Well," The shinigami crosses her arms, looking all noble and haughty. But that's Rukia, and it fits her – being noble, being haughty (because she's older, way, way older and thus, is wiser, Ichigo likes to think sometimes – _rare _sometimes). "I hope you're not going to let this opportunity pass."

Ichigo pretends he is an idiot and ignores her. But Rukia knows him, knows him enough to tell when he's being an idiot and when he's not.

"She deserves it. It's long overdue." There is a pause. "Moron."

"Man," interjects an annoying voice. "Don't make your life story as sappy and cliché as your novel."

Ichigo glares at Renji. "My novel is not sappy, you retard."

"Oh right." Renji nods somberly. "Telling your heroine that it's alright to vomit in your mouth is _not _sappy. It's disgusting."


	31. cliché, shoujo and romantics

**coat**

She blinks with a little and sort of cute frown on her face. Frowning does not suit her but it does not mean it looks dreadful on her.

But Ichigo wonders, _what is there to frown about?_ He is, after all, just being a gentleman like his father reminds him everyday.

"Um… You're offering me your coat." She points out the obvious. Way to go.

"Well, aren't _you _cold?"

"I'm not." Orihime answers quickly, and as if on cue, she shivers, goosebumps rising along her bare skin. He lifts a brow. She is quick to add, "I have strong immune system!"

He exhales a long suffering sigh. "Just take the coat, Inoue."

"No, no, nooooo! This is… is cliché!" She cries out and flails her arms.

He blinks at her, completely confused now. "What?" Her logic is infinitely quirky.

She opens her mouth to reply, pauses, thinks and flails again. "Because it is cliché! A guy offers his coat or jacket… it happens all the time in every romance shoujo! Then, we'd meet again –"

"We will. We attend the same school, remember?" Ichigo cuts in.

"—so that I can return the coat, _this _coat, then, there's this magnetic pull between us, an attraction triggered by _the _coat, then we'll fall in love –"

"Don't give me ideas, Inoue."

"What?"

"Just wear the freaking coat. You're shivering. I can hear your teeth chattering. And the sound is annoying, so take the coat and wear it."

"But –"

"Damn it." Despite her protests and flailing arms, he grabs her arm and throws the coat over her shoulders. "See? Warmer, right?"

"Kurosaki-kun –"

"You're spending too much time with Rukia, aren't you?" he grunts.

She blinks and has the decency to look flushed. "Well, she says –"

"Damn her and her shoujo-crap. Forget it. Now, let's go. I'll walk you home."

Her jaw drops, and Ichigo fights the urge to chuckle at her comical expression. "That's another cliché! Guy walk girl home, then, girl trips, lands on guy's chest, then the _magnetic pull again –_ and then, they'd kiss at her doorstep –"

He groans loudly. "I can't believe we're having this conversation just because I offered you my coat!"


	32. clouds where 6 angels reside

**angels**

"I say, _jump him, _Orihime-chan."

"— Look at him straight in the eye and in a clear voice, tell him –"

"Let's make babies."

"B-Babies… How can you make babies by jumping?"

"HIME-CHAN, HOW CAN YOU CHOOSE SOMEONE AS MEAN AS THAT MAN?"

"Shut up. We're busy."

"Tatsuki –"

"I said, _shut up._"

"You're cruel! Separating me from _my _HIME!"

"She's not yours, baka. Look, Orihime, just grab your boobs –"

"B-BOOBS?"

"The _tits_, you know, the breasts. Those things,"

"Don't point, Mahana, it's rude."

"Look, why don't you just lift your skirt?"

"L-L-L-L-Lift m-m-m-my…"

"Great idea, Michiru! I mean, flash him your panties. But make sure it's sexy, lacy, red lingerie. You have fair skin. Red suits you."

"Push him against the wall."

"But Ryo-chan, Kurosaki is strong! He'll overpower her easily!"

"Hmm, maybe a red polka dot bikini is a better choice. What do you think?"

"I think strawberry printed panties are better."

"Genius, Rukia!"

"Um… Um… B-B-B-But…"

"Inoue, just listen – wait, are you taking down notes?"

"I have to take down notes, Kuchiki-san?"

"Maybe you can try the tried-and-tested method."

"What is that method, Mahana?"

"Be clumsy. Trip and fall, Orihime-chan."

"I –"

"Wait. I saw this one in one of my shoujo comics. Just tell him: there's a party in my pants and you're invited."

"But he's dense! He's slow with pick up lines."

"What's a pick up line, Tatsuki-chan?"

"I'll explain later."

"Why don't you just tell him that you're horny and –"

"But I don't have horns."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"I told you. It's a waste of time."


	33. one million and one exploding supernovas

**twenty one: **birdhouse**  
twenty two: **hopscotch**  
twenty three: **sage  
**twenty four: **mailbox**  
twenty five: **lantern**  
twenty six: **alignment**  
twenty eight: **collapse**  
thirty: **ink

* * *

**cosmos**

For the third time, she stands under the birdhouse.

It is so old now, Orihime thinks, as she stares at the birdhouse. She expects it to fall apart after five springs, five summers, five autumns, and five winters. But the birdhouse looks as if it hasn't aged. It is stronger than it looks, she realizes.

"You know," she jumps in shock but does not turn around. "I figured that the first thing you'd like to see once you decided to come back is the birdhouse."

Her heart, _oh be still, _is beating so hard. It races, it beats so hard that Orihime thinks there are fireflies inside her, flying around, racing against each other.

"Knowing you… you'd probably get upset for those birds losing their home. So I fixed it annually."

Orihime grips the front of her jacket, afraid that her heart might burst, afraid that the fireflies might burst free from her chest, and no, no, it would be morbid, right? And bloody, too!

"I…" _Oh be still. _"I'm glad." Her heartbeat is louder than her voice.

"I waited for you."

Plain and simple.

And Orihime's world stop moving, freezing in its axis, and time screeches to a halt. It stands still. And the universe, oh traitor! The universe conspires against her and conspires with Kurosaki-kun!

It is unfair to her and to her heart.

Behind her, Ichigo continues in that voice of his, scratchy, oddly smooth, very deep. "Sometimes, I find myself standing here. Everyday, I wait by the mailbox. You know, it stands outside my house? It's so old now but Dad always fixes it."

Orihime clutches her jacket closer, suddenly afraid, secretly willing the universe to move, the time to move because –

"I," Footsteps come closer. He is _closer. _"I want you to know."

Orihime's eyes widen as Ichigo grabs her arm and turns her around. With a hint of panic lacing her voice, she stammers, "Kurosaki-kun –"

"I want you."

She gawks, stunned. "…!"

"And I want memories with you. Good, bad, annoying, weird memories, under the rain, everywhere, _anywhere. _I don't want us to be a chapter in a book, you know, like a fleeting moment. I…" His grip tightens, and Orihime… her heart, the universe, the silence…

He starts to frown. "I… Why are you smiling like that?"

Orihime blinks, "I'm… smiling?"

Ichigo could not help it but feel a little aggravated; the momentum is gone and it is difficult to regain his courage to talk _like that_, you know, because in front of this girl, he is nervous. In front of this girl, he feels butterflies and goddamn it, in front of this girl— _with this girl –_ he finds himself spiraling into one of his many written romance clichés.

"I'm sorry." She is sincere, as always. "I…" But the corner of her lips is lifting until a dimple appears.

"What's funny?" He growls and the half of his face twitches as he blushes. But that is a good sign, right, that she is smiling?

"Nothing," she is still smiling albeit blushing. "Please continue."

Ichigo narrows his eyes. "Hell no. You're making fun of me."

She has the decency to look embarrassed. "No! It's just…" She averts her gaze, her cheeks pink. "O-okay. I… I just find it odd." She glances up at him, under her lashes shyly, "Kurosaki-kun… The Kurosaki-kun I know… he's not, um…"

"You're talking about me rambling, right?"

She waves her hands in front of her chest. "N-No! You're not rambling! Not Kurosaki-kun! Usually, Kurosaki-kun talks in three or four _or five _sentences and chooses to act rather than talk –"

"I do?"

She blinks, "I… I'm not really sure… Maybe?"

He is looking at her underneath his lashes. "I see." He kisses her softly, as soft as he can and Orihime stands still, shocked. "In three sentences, huh?" murmurs Ichigo in her lips.

He locks eyes with her.

"Stay." Orihime looks deeply into his heavy-lidded eyes with her big doe eyes. "Please stay. Stay with me."

The tears are unrepressed now. They fall. They roll and make two or three racetracks where teardrops race against each other.

Ichigo smirks and thumbs the tear tracks but another racetrack replaces the previous ones, and Ichigo thinks, they're stubborn, oh so very stubborn like the rain every June.

"I… I…"

He kisses her again.

"It's too late," He pauses and breathes, "Orihime." She stiffens, her eyes wider. "It's too late. You can't let go now. You can't stop _this_, you can't stop," his hands wrap around her head, his fingers tangling into the red-orange strands of her hair, his thumb on her jaw line, "_us_."

_Us._

His breath is warm and she flushes harder, eyes glazing over. "None of us can let go now." He murmurs, leaning closer, closer… _closer._

"I won't let go _now._"

And all is right with the world, his world, her world, the universe.

.

.

.

.

* * *

**additional notes:  
**- thank you so much for your time to read and most of all, for your time to comment/review: _Alastor Xaphon Vega, SheWhoDaydreams, MiszIceQueen10, DancerGrl16, Beautiful Nightmare07, The Puppeteer, fallenmad, NaruHinaFanboy, Sage of Downtown Hyrule, Maniz, outXhereXconfused, rainy-lullaby, Sweety8587, aej1085, Blitch, DamageReport, Emuri, Dm Tayashi, FallOutGirl272, FlaminDessa, AvioNN, Yanaril, XBitez, Enelya87_**  
**- And **thirty two:** cosmos is the end (i think unless inspiration strikes me like a thunderbolt!)  
- also, i wrote 63 drabbles for this collection before posting this love. so, if you are subscribing to this fic, i am apologizing in advance if i am spamming your emails with notifications because for sure, i will update this regularly (everyday, if RL allows me! :D)**  
**- and lastly, the last sentence, specifically the first one may remind you of Robert Browning XD**  
**


	34. places he wants to touch

**texture**

_Hm._

Looks soft, looks really… soft.

"What's soft, huh?"

Ichigo curses and whips his head around. "What the…_Renji_!"

The redhead rolls his eyes, lounging lazily beside the orange-haired. "You're not having perverted thoughts, are you?"

Ichigo gawks. Perverted… He snaps in attention. "The hell! I'm not like _you_!

"So defensive," Renji yawns. "Looks like your hormones are finally kicking. We thought you're gay."

"W-What the fuck! Renji, you bastard, I'm not gay! I respect women!"

The redhead gives him a lazy appraisal. "Dork." Ichigo bristles. "You know what, just ask Rukia."

"Ask her what?" snarls Ichigo.

"If Inoue's as soft and smooth as she looks."

Ichigo gapes at him. "Y-Y-Y-YOU… _bastard! _What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Rukia hugged her once." Renji continues as if Ichigo hasn't spoken a word. "And Rukia had the chance to feel her up."

Ichigo is red, very red. "Feel… her… up?"

"Yeah. Rukia told me Inoue's really soft and warm and – _OUCH! _THE FUCK, ICHIGO! THAT HURT! WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?"

"S-SHUT UP!"

"You wanna fight, punk? I'm gonna give ya one, moron!"

"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!"


	35. to seize and conquer

**distract**

"Damn it, Renji!" roared Ichigo. "How many times do I have to tell you not to go to _my _school and show up in public wearing abnormal clothes?"

"A-Abnormal clothes?" Renji hollered back. He tugged at his colorful bunny shirt. "This," he enunciated between gritted teeth, "is _hip!_"

A massive vein throbbed over Ichigo's temple. "HIP?" He repeated, yelling louder than before. "When you hang out with me, people stare and point!"

"Kurosaki-kun…"

"People stare at you because of your, and I quote, idiot, _abnormal _hair, punk!"

"Damn –"

"Kurosaki-_kun._"

Ichigo blinked and looked down at his girlfriend. "Orihime, what—"

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly. "Behave, Kurosaki-kun." She whispered with a smile and Ichigo gawked at her with a dopey look on his face.

"Don't fight, okay? I'll see you later." Orihime let go of his collar and turned to Renji. "See you later, Renji-kun!" She waved at the two boys and walked off. Ichigo stared after her, wearing a dorky grin.

Renji watched him blankly.

"Whipped,"

"S-say what?"


	36. blows of zephyr, and oh look!

**fold**

_This is weird. Ochi-sensei is late!_

Orihime pouts and looks down to her notes. Absent-mindedly, she begins to doodle randomly, giggling as she writes ICHIGO X ORIHIME FOREVER.

This makes her giggle a lot; Tatsuki glances at her but shrugs and looks away, bored. _Hmm… _She looks outside; she likes to keep her window open. Outside, it's such a beautiful but windy day. Her caramel eyes drift upwards to the blue sky and she thinks, _to be a bird and fly~ _

Orihime's smile widens as an idea crosses her mind. She looks down to her notebook and using her amazing drawing skills, draws a small caricature of Ichigo and herself. She laughs to herself, which attracts a couple of stares from Tatsuki, Ichigo and some. But being her blissfully oblivious self, Orihime keeps doodling and writing,

ICHIGO LOVES ORIHIME

ICHIGO AND ORIHIME

Grinning and still oblivious from the stares, she tears off the pages, folds it, making a paper plane. She cannot fly to sky and take her wish to the heavens, but airplanes can fly, can't they?

Well, she'll have to send it to the sky her way.

Giddy like a child, she throws it outside and the breeze, oh the breeze, playfully changes its direction and it waves the paper plane back to her. Orihime raises her hands to catch it but it flies past her fingers, drifts steadily as if it has a mind of its own and lands… _OH NO!_

Ichigo blinks and looks down at his desk. A paper plane has landed. Despite himself, he smirks. He picks it up, examines it and notices that there are words written on the paper. Curious, he moves to unfold it –

"STOP!" screams Orihime.

_Huh? _

Ichigo and the rest of the class look at the red-faced auburn-haired girl.

Orihime is shaking, red-faced, a hand in the air like a traffic enforcer.

"Inoue?" says Ichigo, confused.

"D-Don't open it, please!"

"But…" Ichigo looks at the paper plane, brows furrowed, terribly, oh so terribly curious. The letterings are beckoning him to read them. And he vaguely makes out a few characters.

_I…chi—_

"NOOOOO~" Orihime's voice makes Ichigo look at her again. "I beg you or else… or else…" It's not her personality to threaten, Ichigo thinks. For Orihime's part, she feels like the universe is making fun of her. The wind is blowing _that _way— why does it suddenly change its mind?

_The… universe hates me! _

"Or else… Or else… t-the Martians will come to eat us alive and you don't want to be trapped inside their bellies, right, so please don't… Um, um… UWAH~" To Ichigo's shock, the gentle girl pounces on him, surprising Tatsuki (and later, she is impressed at her boldness) and yanks the paper plane from his hand. Before he could react, Orihime is running outside, past Ochi-sensei.

"OI, INOUE!"

"I HAVE TO PEE!"

"You're a girl! You can hold it for an hour!"

"BUT IT HURTS IT HURTS~" yells Orihime over her shoulder, jogging but not moving on her spot.

"Alright~ have fun! You can go back after an hour or more! Oi, Asano, where are you going?"

"I HAVE TO PEE!"

"SIT!"

"But— THAT'S UNFAIR~ FAVORITISM, I SAY!"

Dark amber eyes half-lidded, Ichigo casually leans forward in his seat, his chin on his palm, his eyes averted to the side where Orihime sits.

_Paper planes, huh?_

* * *

**notes. **gasp! 2-200! you guys are too kind! thank you so much! also, i apologize. i do not reply to your awesome reviews and comments, but i am very thankful! you see, i only log in to upload and update only to run off to RL and be a good kid to the Big Boss. anyways! this piece is one of my three submissions for dark insanity's weekly prompt challenge in FLOL. that week's prompt was: WRITE/DRAW. it was the easiest that i end up writing three drabbles for it. the first one was _color pencils_ (see profile) which i submitted because it was longer, second one is _fold_, third is... tomorrow, i guess! again, thanks for your time and being awesome! :D


	37. there he goes, there she goes

**note.** this is AU.

* * *

**sidewalk**

**i.**

One Saturday Spring morning, at eight o clock in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.

He is going to east.

She is going to west.

He does not look back.

She does not look back.

He goes to east.

She goes to west.

.

.

**ii.**

He does not look special, but he stands out in the crowd. His hair is bright, brighter in the sunshine. He wears a scowl like a second skin and he seems to be always in deep thought. With his brows furrowed like that, he looks like someone who thinks deeply.

She does not look special, but she stands out in the crowd. Her hair is red, not blood red, but orange red that attracts stares all the time. Her eyes are wide, too big in her face, but it suits her. Those eyes make her look younger. She smiles a lot, this girl.

One Saturday morning, at eight fifteen in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.

He is going to east.

She is going to west.

He does not look back.

She does not look back.

He goes to east.

She goes to west.

.

.

.

**iii.**

One Saturday summer morning, in front of an ice cream shop, at eight twenty two, he is going to east. She is going to west.

A phone rings. He stops, "Hello?"

An envelope falls and its contents spill. She stops, "Oh my."

In four seconds, they are standing on the same spot, separated by a cell phone and an envelope.

The conversation concludes.

The contents are gathered.

At eight twenty seven, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.

He does not look back.

She does not look back.

He goes to east.

She goes to west.

.

.

.

.

**iv.**

He is going to east.

She is going to west.

That day, above them, the clouds are gathering, like bunches of many, many, many cotton candies inside a transparent plastic bag, a plastic bag that is as big as the sky.

At nine fifteen, the many, many, many cotton candies weep and their tears drench the land. Children run, adults run, he walks, she walks.

In front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on that busy, very wet cobblestone sidewalk.

He is under his coat which he drapes over his head.

She is under her too-bright yellow umbrella.

He does not look back.

She does not look back.

He goes to east.

She goes to west.

.

.

.

.

.

**v.**

One Saturday Autumn morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they approach each other on a busy cobblestone street.

"Ichigo."

He lifts his eyes.

"Orihime!"

She looks up from a novel she reads.

He smirks.

She grins.

They walk past by each other.

"Chad."

"Tatsuki-chan!"

He exchange high fives with the person behind her; she hugs the person behind him.

He does not look back.

She does not look back.

He goes to east.

She goes to west.

.

.

.

.

.

.

**vi.**

It is winter.

Snowstorms are rare, but the snow falls steadily. The ice cream shop is open but empty. The cobblestone street is empty as well except for two individuals who live in two different galaxies.

He is going to east, she is going to west.

_Wise men say_

He looks tired and grumpy; he wears a coat and a maroon scarf, his gloves are black.

_Only fools rush in_

She is singing, but her words are stumbling out of her mouth; it is cold and she is shivering. She forgets her coat somewhere, but she has her scarf, her mittens and her green boots.

_But I can't help…_

_Falling in love with_

He frowns curiously and looks up; she twirls once and looks up.

_You_

Their eyes meet.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

**vii.**

One Saturday Spring morning, at eight o clock in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.

He is going to east.

She is going to west.

He looks back.

She looks back.


	38. rainbow colors, bursting!

**paintbrush**

Once upon a time, there's a sewing princess in white who gets lost in a desert, wanders inside a white tower, gets stuck there for an hour, stares up to her window and waits for…

"Aliens!"

But _no_, according to chapter what-is-it, there comes a hero in black who rides an invisible white horse, races across the desert, and tears through the white tower, roars and roars, and grows horns.

The story ends but not a happily ever after yet for the hero has to save a kingdom first before the credits could roll and the director could roar "cut! It's a wrap!"

The story hasn't ended but the world resumes spinning in its axis. Life resumes, awkwardly normal at first, but nevertheless, the participants of the story are grateful.

Now, we see the sewing princess who lives inside her beautiful inner universe.

In a simple white blouse and knee-length flowery skirt, Orihime walks home wearing her old, yellow doll shoes, her steps bouncy, and her hair bright under the refracting sunlight. It is such a beautiful spring day, life at its best, a sign of new and better things to come.

Orihime hopes so. She is, after all, an optimistic girl. No, no, don't get her wrong. She gets lonely too, but she thinks, she has friends who love her and a brother Somewhere Over There who watches over her, so no, no, _I am grateful that I am still alive and that I am not alone._

And so she walks, she glides, she skips, she bounces.

She walks past a wall, she glances at it, and her pace slows down as she smiles at the colorful wall. The wall, as usual, is bright with many graffiti of different fonts and caricatures. A bright colorful hiragana, some red, massive katakana, some curvy, fancy English words, cute scribbles of a rabbit and a monkey, several haikus, an English catchphrase in a stencil and —

Smiling, she turns her face away, humming.

1, 2, 3…

All of a sudden, she freezes as though she is hit by a thunderbolt. Orihime whips her head around, her hair making a halo around her and stares at the wall, utterly flabbergasted.

Let's rewind.

A bright colorful hiragana, some red, massive katakana, some curvy, fancy English words, cute scribbles of a rabbit and a monkey, several haikus, an English catchphrase in a stencil and —

Orihime gawks and feels the earth dance under her feet. The newest artwork is still glistening with wet paint. And there is someone, no, two figures, standing in front of it, holding soaked paintbrushes. Two figures which Orihime can recognize anywhere.

Gracefully clumsy, Orihime hurries forward. "R-R-Rukia-chaaan!"

The slender shinigami jumps and glances over her thin shoulder. Her wide violet eyes widen. "Oh crap! Quick, Renji! She's here! Pack up!"

Energetically, Orihime waves her arms around in panic and humiliation. "Rukia-chan, Renji-kun, what… W-What is this?" Orihime squeaks in mortification, her cheeks as red as apples.

Rukia grins, proud of her skills. She is a superb Artist, yes she is. "Nice, isn't it?"

Orihime blinks and stares at the wall, mouth slack. "… It's beautiful… NO! Rukia-chan, you can't write something like this in public!"

"But it's true, isn't it?" challenges Rukia, while Renji wisely steps back, preparing to flee. His animal senses are tingling: _Warning! Warning!_

Orihime goes redder that it amazes both Rukia and Renji. "B-B-But… Uwah~ Rukia-chan, this is… Me and… no! He… We… Aliens and bees and… _No!_" Orihime moans, clutching her face. "This is… Oh no, this is embarrassing and… and Rukia-chaaaan, oh, what have you done?"

"But it's the _truth._" Rukia points out, gesturing at her and Renji's smooth, colorful handiwork.

…

…

KUROSAKI ICHIGO X INOUE ORIHIME

If possible, Orihime colors even redder that Rukia thinks her friend will explode in pretty smithereens.

"It is, right?" prods Rukia. "You _love _him, right?"

"Oh Rukia-chan, my feelings… Oh, I do, I love him very much! But—"

"Then it's okay! He loves you too and you'll live happily—"

"Noooo~" moans Orihime, clutching her hair even tighter. "Kurosaki-kun does not like me the way I like him and he will never like me like the way I like him because… Because… Kurosaki-kun will never like someone like _me_— but you're right! I love him – I _am in _love with him but that's not the point!" Shakily, Orihime brandishes a finger at the glistening orange and blue characters. "What if he sees that? What will he think? He will be embarrassed, angry, shocked and he'd be scowling and the aliens will come and get him because he looks so funny when he scowls and what will happen to Karakura without its Super Duper Hero? We are doomed! So, please do something about that before he sees it because—"

"What's this?"

Oh, yes, timing is everything.

Orihime gasps loudly, turns around clumsily, stumbles, catches herself and her eyes, those big and round doe eyes, grow bigger, stares up, up, _up_ to the tall, tall, _tall_ frowning, laidback and bemused visage of her long-time-former-crush-now-the-love-of-her-life…

_Noooooooooo~ _The sewing princess wails mentally in despair as her inner self drops to its knees and cries a waterfall of tears.

"K-K-K-Kurosaki-kun!"


	39. wrong, wrong, wrong stories!

**timing**

"Say, Ichigo, what sort of words would you use to woo a girl?"

Ichigo frowned, "What? I'm not pathetic to do such thing."

"Don't insult me!" Renji snapped angrily. Ichigo, Sado, and Ishida turned to the redhead. Renji blinked, realization set in and he cursed, his face redder than his hair.

Ishida crossed his arms, the lenses of his eyeglasses glinting ominously. "Abarai-kun, are you saying that you are employing the process of courtship?"

Renji waved his hand, turning his face away. "No. I am just curious." He said firmly. The three humans looked at him with different expressions; Ichigo's was apathetic, Ishida's was clinical, Sado looked genuinely concerned. Renji grew increasingly redder.

"Damn it, guys! Stop staring!"

Ichigo looked cynical. "Who is it?" his tone was flat but there was a hint of something akin to 'say _her _name and I'm gonna fucking skin you alive with my shikai'.

"Please don't say Inoue." Sado interjected. Ichigo and Renji gawked at him. "Ichigo might skin you alive with his shikai." Ichigo gaped at him, stuttering; Sado flashed him a thumb's up sign.

Ishida cleared his throat. "If it's not Inoue-san, then it's –"

"Gah!" Renji threw up his hands in the air in surrender. "Fine, fine! It's Rukia, goddamn it!"

Ichigo slowly smirked, a look of sadistic glee crossing his features. "Wow. You want to die a painful death. Good for you." Sado looked even more concerned now.

"W-what? I know it's almost suicide but… but… Look, man, I know my captain would be a problem. But he's not _the _biggest problem here. I want… I want to tell Rukia." Renji coughed, "You know. Like a Man."

Ichigo blinked. "Like a Man." He repeated blankly. "You should ask Ishida." He said with a shrug, already uninterested.

Ishida pushed up his glasses. "I suggest poetry."

"So girly," scoffed Ichigo.

Ishida had the grace (and poise) to ignore the remark (which irritated Ichigo because no _one_ ignores his witty remarks). "If you can't tell her what you feel directly, a poem will help you transmit your feelings."

"…transmit?"

Renji, like Ichigo, was ignored. Ishida stroked his chin contemplatively. Ichigo's brows lifted, the guy was too damn cooperative. "One line is enough." The Quincy continued, "Too many lines will be sappy." Ishida turned to Ichigo. "Kurosaki, I believe you are a _little_ knowledgeable about Shakespeare."

"Huh?" Ichigo shifted to battle mode."No way! I won't let this monkey," He pointed at Renji, "mess up with Shakespeare!" Ichigo oddly sounded hysterical, in Sado's opinion.

"Who are you calling monkey, retard?"

Ichigo ignored him. "Maybe he can use… Neruda, but no, _not_ Shakespeare!"

"Well, what do you suggest?" Ishida asked with an arch of his brow. He didn't expect that the idiot's poetic repertoire was not limited to Shakespeare.

Ichigo frowned deeply, then, "Fine. Listen carefully. I'd say this only once!"

"Right, you punk," Renji drew closer, standing so close to Ichigo so as not miss the perfect one liner of wooing.

Ichigo sighed deeply, shutting his eyes as he pictured her, bright eyes and brighter hair, her small hands that heal, her smiling face, her smiling eyes.

"I," his frown deepened somberly, "I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth."

The silence after that was punctured by a gasp. Ichigo opened his eyes and paled, seeing how close Renji was.

"The fu –"

"You… You…"

Ichigo turned to his right. His shock turned into panic.

"Rukia…" Renji murmured, wide-eyed. The petite shinigami was shaking, her head bowed. Behind Rukia was Orihime, wearing a shocked expression.

"Inoue… Hey –" He was interrupted as Rukia slapped Renji full in the face. The males cringed and backed away.

"RENJI!" screamed Rukia. "I NEVER KNEW YOU'D CHOOSE ICHIGO OVER ME!" With that, the black-haired shinigami ran off; Renji recovered, looked at Ichigo, cringed, cursed him and ran after Rukia.

"…Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo whipped his head around, looking down at Inoue's wide, teary eyes. Why did she look sad, almost heartbroken…?

"I didn't know… I… I…"

"Inoue?"

"I've loved you for so long…" She said softly. Ichigo stiffened as though he was hit by a thunderbolt, his jaw hanging open. "I didn't know… I didn't know you… you…" Tears ran down her cheeks. She heaved a deep sigh. "But I understand, Kurosaki-kun. If your happiness is with Renji-kun," she smiled kindly, "Then, who am I to intervene? I wish you all the best, Kurosaki-kun…"

She heaved another deep sigh, wiped her cheeks, turned around, and ran off.

Ichigo only gaped after her, a hand reaching out to her retreating back, jaw hanging open, and shoulders slumped.

Sado and Ishida exchanged glances, blinked at each other and shrugged.

"What a sad story, don't you agree, Sado-kun?"

Sado flashed him a thumb's up sign.


	40. four zero: eyes on me

**notes.** a huge hug for **Vampire-Hime101** who gave this collection 12 reviews! :D thanks so much. and of course! big 4-0, already! anyways, thanks so much (from 31-39): _The FlaminDessa, Sun-in-the-Sky, Sage of Downtown Hyrule, MiszIceQueen10, AvioNN_ (to answer your question, why? because that's how i wrote it, i refuse to give a wordy explanation because it will bore you and chances are, you'll refute) _Beautiful Nightmare07, The Puppeteer, Yanaril, CrazyAce'n'PokerFace, Sweety-chan, Alastor Vega, rainy-lullaby, NaruHinaFanboy, sara, outXhereXconfused, Mars Moving Mustard, ang694, aej1085, SheWhoDayDreams, DancerGrl16, fallenmad, maniz!_ thanks very veeery much for your time to read and moreover, to review! ah, i feel ridiculously inspired and less sick. :D be healthy.

* * *

**needle**

"Inoue, relax."

Shy gray eyes lifted. "I… I'm not really comfortable with…" Her eyes pinched, seeing the needle which looked ready to puncture her skin and suck her blood and will transform her into a dolphin and then there would be –

"Inoue, I'm just going to give you a shot."

"But I'm not a child anymore," she argued softly. "I… I don't… Oh please, Kurosaki-kun…"

Ichigo sighed, "You're one headstrong patient, Inoue."

"And you're a _pushy _doctor." She said without a hint of negative emotions.

Ichigo raised a brow, but made no comment about her remark. "Just don't look. This will only take a second."

"But… But…"

"Look somewhere else."

Orihime bit her lip and looked away from her right arm where Ichigo will stick the needle on. He was standing _directly_ in front of her between her legs as she sat on an examination table.

"Relax. You're so stiff."

She tried to breathe in and breathe out. He gently rubbed her skin with his thumb, helping her relax. Orihime dropped her gaze, staring blankly at nothing in particular.

Ichigo continued rubbing her skin, hoping to make her feel more comfortable. Fortunately, it was working; she was less stiff. Curiously, he glanced at her. She was pretty, really, really pretty. With big eyes, flushed cheeks and plush lips.

He frowned, noticing something, and then, a mischievous smile tugged at his lips. He leaned closer; she seemed not to notice.

"Hey," he whispered in her ear. His smile widened into a grin, feeling her shiver. "Are you staring at my crotch, _Orihime?_"


	41. the fail! tale: sparkle sparkle sparkle

**seventeen: **slipper. **warning!** AU & another... weirdness. not necessarily a sequel. a companion fic, maybe. **a/n:** busy RL, boo. completing _hardboiled & halcyon you_. enjoy. :D

* * *

**myth**

She rocks back and forth, torn between fantasy and dream, sitting on an old, wooden bench, wearing her white fluffy ball gown which is heavier than her weight.

"Orihime?"

Orihime looks up and pouts, "Rukia-chaaaan~"

"When you say my name like that, it means you're in trouble." The dark-haired woman replies, her small face set in a frown. She walks closer to Orihime and her eyes widen slowly as she sees her friend clearer, "And… _What the hell_? You're wearing a gown and –"

The girl giggles, "I'm sad." Orihime pats the empty space beside her; Rukia, after her initial shock seeing her friend in a gown, sits down, keeping a safe distance away from the auburn-haired. The gown looks expensive and it _glitters._

Rukia's frown deepens and she comments, "It's obvious." She says dryly.

Orihime lifts her foot and the gown to show Rukia her bare foot. "Look! I lost my other slipper! My other bunny slipper!"

Her eyes bulge. "You… You're wearing _bunny slippers_ under that gown?"

"Well… I forgot to ask for glass slippers but —"

"Where the hell have you been? Be thankful Tatsuki's away for her karate tournament! She'd be really angry!"

"I went to a ball." Orihime says with a smile.

Rukia looks confused. "A… ball? Basketball?"

Orihime laughs. Rukia-chan is adorable. "Nope! It's an event where people wear pretty dresses and dance like this," she demonstrates a funny dance which further confuses Rukia.

"But Orihime, you're not supposed to leave in the middle of the night! What if your stepfather and stepbrothers caught you? Whatcha gonna do?"

"Nah-uh, it's okay!" Orihime clasps her hands together and Rukia swears her friend sparkles, like the guy in… in… _Twilight_! Rukia feels accomplished she recalls the title. "I," her friend continues, sparkling more, "have a fairy god father! He's grumpy, he's got red hair and he wears tattoos but he's really kind because he got me this gown—"

"ORIHIME…!" Rukia bellows. Orihime blinks and stares open-mouthed; she is amazed because despite of Rukia-chan's slim frame, she has this really deep and scary voice when she shouts and reprimands her. "Didn't we, Tatsuki and I, tell you not to talk to lunatics?"

Orihime pouts. "That's rude. He's not a lunatic. He's my fairy godfather."

Rukia groans and throws her hands in the air. "It's supposed to be a fairy god_mother!_"

"…Oh."

"And fairy… wait, did you just say _fairy godfather?_"


	42. and it tinkles, let's leave it to fate

**coin**

He speaks and the wind carries the words to her while whipping her hair around, lifting her skirt, and lashing at her so stubbornly.

Orihime blinks at him, doe-eyed and flushed, her mouth hanging open.

Ichigo smirks at her, leaning against the railing, eyeing her with amusement. "Close your mouth." The girl blinks, flushes again and snaps her mouth close.

"…so?" he looks out over the courtyard from the roof where they agreed to meet. "What's your answer?"

"M-My a-answer…" she stutters. He looks back at her, watching her from under his lashes. His eyes are burning, too bright, too intense, piercing her, burning her.

Orihime bites her lip, thinking deeply, a finger poking her chin. Her eyes brighten and she shoves her small hand inside her skirt's pocket. Ichigo merely watches her.

"Aha!" She extracts her hand and beams at him blushingly. He raises a brow. "Let's flip a coin."

He looks amused, faces her fully and leans against the railing with his arms crossed, "What for?"

"To decide our fate," She says intelligently, proud of herself. Orihime catches his intense eyes and blushes more.

Ichigo nods, still looking amused. "Whether you will go out with me or not," Her blush spread from her cheeks down to her neck and collarbones until her whole face is red as an apple.

"R-Right," she mumbles, trying to recover her bearings. "W-well… Heads means 'yes, I will go out with you today'." The corner of his mouth turns up, his eyes glinting. Orihime blushes _more_. "Tails…" She breaks off breathlessly, doe eyes widening as her orange-haired previous-crush-now-love-of-her-life-and-center-of-her-universe closes the distance between them, sending her neurons into panic attack and neurotransmitters freezing in their tracts.

"…and tails?" he prods in that dark chocolate-y voice of his that makes her knees weak.

"Tails… m-means… means…" Orihime struggles, watching him draw closer until he is standing so close, so very close to her that all she has to do is to reach a little and she'll be able to taste him.

"Means…?" Ichigo breathes into her parted, quivering lips. He isn't touching her, but his very presence is scorching her.

"I—"

Orihime gasps as Ichigo gently kisses her lips. He is so warm, and his lips are soft unlike his hands that wield Zangestu, unlike his words that he yells every time he battles those stray Hollows.

He presses closer, boldly tasting her, and she yields, eyes sliding shut.

He tastes like chocolates, sweet and strong, like a promise, like summer, insecurities and bold determination, tenderness and loyalty. He is warm, and she savors this wonderful stolen moment with fireflies inside her stomach.

The coin falls with a tinkle from her fingers.

At the sound of it touching the ground, Ichigo pulls back with an almost-soft smirk. He glances down and grins.

"Tails."

Her eyes open and she looks bemused.

"It's tails." Ichigo says, staring at her lips with a faint smile. She tastes even better in reality, he decides quietly.

Orihime swallows and breathes deeply. "Tails…" she repeats breathlessly.

"So what does your coin say?" He stands with his weight on one foot, shoulders hunched and he tells himself, with her, with this girl, with _you, _it's okay to be weak, to show compassion, watch clouds. With this girl, with you, _you, you, _the world is unfair and it is alright_._

"…coin… Oh. _Oh._ Well… It m-means," she starts to grin, her eyes dancing as she looks up to Ichigo's smugly smirking face. "I'll cook for you for our fist date."

The smirk vanishes and Orihime spins round and round, skips backward while waving a hand, smiling oh-so smiling brightly like the sun. "See you later, Kurosaki-kun~"


	43. the fail! tale: disney! pierrot! jump!

**notes.** thank you so much for reading and giving me reviews that inspire! i am grateful, though, as of the moment, i am in the process of grieving. i apologize if i am unable to reply to your comments to show my gratitude! thank you, thank you so much! also! tanabata contest is here, yo! if you have time, please participate! there are prizes to be won so… go, go, go!

**seventeen: **slipper**  
forty one: **myth

* * *

**shoes**

"Whoop-doo-dee-yup~"

"Orihime –"

"It's the magic word, Rukia-chan. Like 'abracadabra' or –"

"Eh? The hell? What the hell do you want now?" A grumpy voice bellowed. The two girls turned to the voice. Orihime lit up.

"There he is!" Orihime waved her arms. "Fairy godfather-san!"

The corner of Rukia's mouth and left eye twitched. The 'fairy godfather' was a grumpy-looking redhead. Also, Orihime failed to mention that he was tall, muscular with massive biceps, hard pecs, six-packed abs and …

"Orihime," she rounded on her friend. "I told you, didn't I? Don't talk to suspicious-looking people! They're… criminals!"

The redhead bristled at her comment and opened his mouth to counter but his goddaughter spoke first. "But Rukia-chan, he's not a criminal! Well, he looks kind of suspicious but look!" Orihime pointed at the redhead; Rukia followed her finger and her jaw dropped. "He got wings!"

"Shit."

"Oi. They're not shit." The redhead punched the tip of his index finger into his right nostril and started rotating it. A tic developed on Rukia's forehead. "They're wings, got it?" The little fairy wings gave a flutter as if to emphasize the wearer's point. The fairy godfather turned to Orihime. "What do you want, pumpkin head?"

Orihime beamed at him. "Well, I want to introduce you to my friend. She refuses to believe me that I met my amazing fairy godfather."

The redhead stopped picking his nose and flicked the booger over his shoulder. "Nice. Now that you've seen me, can I go now? I have to go and teach the Queen how to make a poisoned apple for Rapunzel."

"It's _Snow White, _moron." Rukia corrected.

"Blah. Whatever. They're all from Disney, anyway. So I'm goin' now."

"Wait." It was Rukia who spoke, eyes hard. The redhead looked back at her, _hmm. Cute but looks pretty violent._

"What is it? Is there anything you want to wish for?" He grinned but Rukia was not charmed. Not yet, anyway.

"Shut the hell up, you idiot!"

The fairy bristled. "Watch your language, shorty!"

"Shorty? D-Damn you, you're a crappy fairy godfather!" Rukia shouted, irate and… Her eyes traced the strong bulge of the fairy's biceps. But the Kuchiki gave herself a shake as the suspicious redhead continued.

"Hey now, don't go insulting my _job_! I gave Pumpkin Head what she needed! A gown, a coach and –"

"YOU COULD HAVE GIVEN HER A PAIR OF SHOES, MORON."

He blinked.

"…Oh."


	44. c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé

**worship**

"Ah, Kurosaki-kun~" Orihime sings, waving her arms.

Ichigo stops in the middle of the soccer field, turns his head around and sees her (truthfully, who would not notice her and her flailing arms that move like windmills?) He abandons the ball and jogs towards her.

"Hey." He says, panting and sweat-soaked.

She beams at him, hands clasped together as she flashes him adoring doe eyes; he raises a brow, his weight on one foot, head tilted to the side.

"You're all shiny, sweaty and smelly!"

Ichigo's raised brow lifts higher; really, only this girl can be charmingly blunt. He shakes his head, orange hair soaked with sweat. Some locks fall and stick to the skin between his intense amber eyes.

"Cut me some slack, yeah?" he drawls and wipes his forehead with the back of his forearm. She laughs that tinkling laugh of hers and apologizes breezily.

"But I like it when you're… What are you doing?" She starts to flush and panic.

Ichigo arches a brow, hands clutching the hem of his shirt. "It's hot." He replies bluntly and proceeds to take off the soaked shirt. Her eyes widen, jaw dropping.

He is shiny, sweaty and smelly, but…

"Oh… my… god…"

Ichigo slowly grins. Smoothly, he leans down to her gawking face, his eyes intense and burning.

"Nah, just your average Kurosaki Ichigo." He whispers and presses a kiss on her parted lips. He deepens the kiss with a low groan, slanting his mouth over hers again and again, making her breathless, soft and so in love – again and again.

He pulls away before she could kiss him back.

"But you are my goddess," he says against her lips, and then, he winks. Orihime flushes vividly. He starts to walk backwards, back to the field but before he leaves, he gives a teasing salute, grinning at her crookedly before turning around and running back in the center of the field.

Orihime drops to her crunches and hugs her knees, hiding her redder-than-red face.

"…Kurosaki-kun is so mean…"


	45. chased by pavements, that girl

**for. **outXhereXconfused, for being the 300th reviewer! she is an amazing trilingual. I AM JEALOUS. the only other language i can do is Troll, the point-and-grunt language.

* * *

**destination**

**

* * *

**

**FROM: ** Tatsuki **  
TO: **Orihime**  
SUBJECT: **NEW YORK?

YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.

What do you mean you're going to New York? What do you mean you accepted a college scholarship offer from a university in _New York?_

I checked my geography and the map of the world and New York… that's on the other side of the planet! Do you know how far it is? Do you know how _far _you are going to be, from us, from _him?_

I think I'm going to have a heart attack and I don't care but I'm going to blame you if I die.

**.**

**FROM: ** Ichigo**  
TO: **Tatsuki**  
SUBJECT: **Inoue

As Inoue's best friend, I am sure you are aware of Inoue's situation. She's going to New York and I don't understand why she has to go _that _far just to study Nuclear Science or… whatever it is.

Japan has colleges, right?

Goddamn it.

**.**

**Uryuu: **I think it is for the best. She needs a change.

**Sado: **…what about Ichigo?

**.**

INOUE ORIHIME

E237283 Karakura-New York 02 APRIL 00

ETD: 10:45

ETA: 00:00

REMINDERS:

_You must be at the Boarding Gate 30 MINUTES before flight departure._

_Guests should present a valid photo ID to airport security and upon check-in._

**.**

**Ichigo: **Someone has to look after her. What if she gets into trouble? Hell, she needs someone who'd protect her. She's going to live in that place on her own.

**Uryuu: **Maybe that someone is not you, Kurosaki.

**Ichigo: **I'm not saying it has to be me, bastard.

**Uryuu: **But you want it to be _you._

**Ichigo has logged off.**

**.**

Dear Tatsuki-chan,

I'm sorry I can't reply using e-mail! I think I did something wrong… the computer blinked and went black all of a sudden so I had to use a conventional way to reply!

I'm afraid I'm not kidding you. I applied for a scholarship and got accepted. It's free! Isn't it great? It's not going to be easy because I have to learn their language and culture but I don't want to waste this opportunity. Ochi-sensei said opportunities like this are rare so I have to grab it. It is difficult for me to come up with this decision. I don't want to leave Karakura. I don't want to leave you and our friends. But I have to do this.

This isn't the end, right, Tatsuki-chan? It isn't that far! We will bridge the gap between Karakura and New York with lots of letters and postcards! We will see each other again for sure! I will visit you and you will visit me! I am going to miss you so much. It will never be the same again without you. I know you worry about me but I'm a big girl now. I have to take care of myself and be strong for myself.

Always remember that you will always be my best friend!

Love,

Orihime

**.**

**FROM: ** Ichigo**  
TO: **Chad**  
SUBJECT: **None

Do I have some sort of fucking disease? Every time I tried talking to Inoue, it's either she has to go to the restroom or bring someone to the clinic. I asked her today if I can walk her home but she refused my offer and said she had to go somewhere and ran off without giving me a fucking chance to say something.

Che. Whatever. I really don't care.

**.**

**FROM: ** Tatsuki**  
TO: **Ichigo**  
SUBJECT: RE: **Inoue

At least, she's going to be so far away from _you._

**.**

**You have an instant message from: ICHIGO**

**Ichigo: **What is that supposed to mean?

**.**

Orihime,

I'm happy for you, really. It's just that the idea of you and I not living in the same country is completely foreign to me. I'm glad that everything is falling into place for you and that you know what you want to do with your life. I hope that whatever it is that sent you packing isn't going to chase you away any further.

Love,

Tatsuki.

.

.

.

* * *

**additional note.** i apologize for the fail!ness. 8D this is an old piece, and most probably will inspire a sequel. or not. :D also! what's up with the ffnet "layouts"? sigh. i will post a different with "better" layout version of this e!flash-fic in my lj.


	46. you are my puffy Queen

**queen**

Kurosaki Ichigo's hand trembled, a vein pulsing in his temple.

In front of him, Ochi-sensei was _smiling_, radiant as ever. It was an innocent, womanly smile, but his senses were tingling, warning him.

The smile broadened – gums and teeth, and Ichigo cringed, shivering as a cold chill ran down his spine.

"A-huh, why wear a scared face?" Ochi-sensei purred, her glasses glinting ominously_. _"Where's your scary face, eh, Kurosaki?"

The corner of his mouth twitched.

And then, there were _fangs._ "PICK OUT, _NOW._"

Twitching, he jammed his hand inside and picked out a thin, rolled, white paper from the _green _cone hat and held it out in front of him with cold trepidation.

_My future… and my reputation… _

Still _smiling_ (or barring her fangs)_, _Ochi-sensei plucked the rolled paper from his fingers. "Go back to your seat." She ordered, which Ichigo did with gloomy scowl and multiple veins pulsing in his temples. He stomped back to his desk, sat down heavily and dropped his chin on his palm, his eyes in slits.

"Inoue, you're next."

"Hai!"

His narrowed stare followed the bouncing girl who eagerly put her hand inside the hat.

"ALRIGHT."

No, _it wasn't alright, _the students thought as an oppressive thick cloud of _doom _bore down on them. The only _sane _person who seemed to be enjoying the situation was Orihime, who turned attentive eyes to their teacher.

"Isn't it great?" –at which, Orihime replied with a clap (Ichigo glanced at her from the corner of his eye with a sweat-drop) – "For this year's School Annual Festival… we're doing…"

Ichigo slowly sank to his seat, his frown deepening.

"…SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARVES!"

As to reiterate, Ochi-sensei wrote the classic fairy tale's title in loopy, cursive English on the board. "Isn't it _great? _Yip, yip?"

"…Hooray." The class replied dully, with the exception of Orihime who replied enthusiastically. It was her dream, after all, to play _Grouchy _and be grouchy.

"Now that I've _assigned_ the roles –"

"You didn't assign roles! _You let us draw lots!_" wailed Keigo.

There was a _smile._ "ARE YOU SAYING _SOMETHING, _ASANO?"

"None, ma'am!"

_Wimp._ Ichigo thought sourly.

"Let's proceed, shall we?" The way Ochi-sensei was smiling was enough for Kiego to dig up a hole for himself. "The roles _are assigned, _yes?" The class nodded vigorously. "And Ishida?"

"Hai." The young man stood up, pushed up his glasses and moved to stand beside Ochi-sensei. "I will announce the participants of the play. Student name first, and then, the role he or she will play."

"AND BE REMINDED: NO ROLE SWITCHING. OR ELSE I'LL SEND YOU OUT TO MILKY WAY."

"Whatever…" Ichigo grumbled and was rewarded with a makeshift missile in a form of a chalk. _Shit!_ Who would have thought that Ochi-sensei had excellent aim?

_Damn._

The only person who seemed eager to be sent to Milky Way was Orihime who exclaimed under her breath, "wow."

The characters rolled on (Orihime got her wish, she was _Grouchy_, which puzzled Ichigo, and to everyone's delight and Kiego's horror, Tatsuki was casted as _Snow White. _Ichigo smirked at her which Tatsuki responded with a quick kick,

"Tatsuki-chan!"

"Damn… it.")

"Kurosaki Ichigo,"

Ichigo straightened in his seat.

"The –" All of a sudden, Uryuu underwent spastic coughing. Beside him, Ochi-sensei patted his back.

"_Please_, continue," Another _smile, _"ISHIDA."

The Quincy gulped; he can practically _hear _the All Caps. "H-Hai."

Orihime beamed at Ichigo, who smiled crookedly at her. "I'm sure you'd be someone so great! Like the Prince or The Mirror or the –"

"…Queen."

A loud silence.

"The… _what?_" Kiego shrieked.

"Oh joy." Ochi-sensei said with a gleeful smirk. "This is _fun_."

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME — _thud._"

"Ku… _Kurosaki-kun!_"

"AND YES, ISHIDA. YOU ARE IN CHARGE. I WANT A FLUFFY PINK GOWN WITH PUFFY SLEEVES AND YES, YES— A tiara."

"Kurosaki-kun! Wake up! We're on live show – I mean…"

"And oh, Inoue, kindly help Kurosaki and his… _spastic flailing_. And be gentle with _our _Queen. Heh."

* * *

**note.** yesh. one of the oldest pieces _ever_. this is familiar, yes? for it once belonged to _a chocolate mock tale_ and if you're from flol, this was my entry for insanity's weekly drabble challenge, prompt 'Queen'. thanks so much reading (and reviewing if you have the time!)~


	47. the fail! tale: here comes the Prince!

**note.** for **CrazyAce**! here it is, the fourth part of the **fail! tale**.

**seventeen: **slipper**  
forty one: **myth**  
forty three: **shoes

* * *

**prince**

* * *

**TO****:** Tatsuki  
**FROM****:** Rukia  
**SUBJECT****:** YOU HAVE TO COME BACK NOW OR ELSE I'D SEND ORIHIME OVER THERE

…in a box, of course.

Something odd is going on. Last night, yes, last night, Orihime went to a ball. Not the basketball _ball._ She sneaked out of their house WEARING A HUGE BLUE AND WHITE DRESS, you know, a gown with this balloon skirt and it's fluffy. I do not have any idea how she got there, but she got in inside this posh hotel in downtown Tokyo where the Elites and the Famous dine and wine. She danced (alone because she said she kept stepping on everybody's foot) and at twelve, she had to leave or else "I'd turn into a pumpkin!"

Yes, I just quoted Orihime. With lots of exclamation points.

She insisted that she met her fairy godfather. YES. I TYPED IT RIGHT. AND YOUR EYES ARE FINE.

A _fairy godfather._

It's supposed to be a fairy godmother, but no, she insisted that it was a fairy godfather.

THE POINT IS: WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER? I STRICTLY DO NOT BELIEVE IN DISNEY AND NEVERLAND. I refused to counter her claims because I do not want to hurt her feelings.

NOW THE POINT OF THIS EMAIL IS TO TELL YOU: PLEASE TATSUKI JUST GO AND KNOCK 'EM DEAD AND GO STRAIGHT HOME. OR ELSE I'D VOLUNTARILY ENTER AN ASYLUM.

**.**

**.**

**TO****:** Ichigo  
**FROM****:** Uryuu  
**SUBJECT****:** think with your brains, not with the air inside your skull

I know you are an idiot and you do not experience brain fart because you do not feed your brain.

But this is ridiculous. Obsessing over someone's faded bunny slipper is not earth-logic. Move on. Trying to find a woman who wore bunny shoes last night in Tokyo is not logical.

Think, can you?

**.**

**.**

**TO****:** Rukia  
**FROM****:** Tatsuki  
**SUBJECT****:** RE: YOU HAVE TO COME BACK NOW OR ELSE I'D SEND ORIHIME OVER THERE

Rukia, Inhale.

Exhale.

You're a strong girl, you're a Kuchiki, remember? You can handle it. You know Orihime. She's exaggerated. Of course, she's just joking. Just laugh it off and she'll forget it. Now, I'm off dislocating joints and twisting ligaments.

**.**

**.**

**TO****:** Uryuu  
**FROM****:** Ichigo  
**SUBJECT****:** RE: think with your brains, not with the air inside your skull

Bastard.

**.**

**.**

**TO****:** Tatsuki  
**FROM****:** Rukia  
**SUBJECT****:** YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE YOUR EYES

DAMN IT. TATSUKI, I SAW A FAIRY. A FAIRY BASTARD WITH RED HAIR, TATTOOS AND SIX PACK ABS.

HE HAS WINGS.

PINK LITTE WINGS.

PLEASE COME BACK HOME NOW. I BEG YOU.

**.**

**.**

**TO****:** Sado  
**FROM****:** Uryuu  
**SUBJECT****:** URGENT! READ AND REPLY

Scanning for viruses…

No viruses detected

Click the download button to continue.

Download attachment.

_Click._

Open…

**ANNOUNCEMENT:**

Kurosaki Ichigo, the heir to Kurosaki Inc., will hold a shoe… shoe… fitting in 25th of December. He will tour around Tokyo to find the woman who captured his heart, soul and libido, the woman who will later become his wife.

**.**

**.**

"Rukia-chan! Rukia-chan!"

"What now, Orihime?"

"Look! Look! Look!"

"Jeez. You're energetic. You're the only person who can be so adorably charming when you're being annoying. And there's no need to wave the newspaper in my fa… W-WHAT IS THIS? A SHOE FITTING… to find the woman – wait a damn minute… don't tell me…"

"Yup, I left my slipper and I think—"

"OH HELL NO. HELL NO. He picked up your slipper and now he's trying to find you by touring around Tokyo, doing shoe fitting with every freaking girl… to find _you_ and to make you his wife_?_"

"Oh! Just like Snow White!"

"…"

"…"

"It's _Cinderella_, Orihime!"

"Oh, right! Um… Rukia-chan? Rukia-chan, why are you head-butting the table?"

**.**

**.**

**TO****:** Uryuu  
**FROM****:** Sado  
**SUBJECT****:** RE: URGENT! READ AND REPLY

…Hm.


	48. la la la la

**for. **The FlaminDessa, 318th, tada-tada! Chapter 318 or the "…Get away from Inoue." –spazz- thanks everyone for reading! you guys rock! (and watch the latest anime episode! it's _EPIC_) now, i'm off to RL drama and RL caca. :D enjoy!

* * *

**gem**

She wakes up first.

Sweet and soft, she sleeps deeply, but always wakes up first. He wakes up a lot later, because he sleeps a lot later after her.

She takes time to open her soulful gray eyes, and beneath her lashes, she watches the pink lines between dreams and reality, the pink lines between the breaking dawn and lifting sunshine. She likes these moments, these moments of fragile tranquility, where in with just a gentle motion of your fingers, you will be able to break the silence.

It is precious.

Always, it is.

Warmth spread, and she is grateful. It is cold; early _early _mornings are always cold, but she is _grateful_, because it gives her an excuse to cling to him longer and tighter.

Slowly, carefully, her head turns and she studies his face. Even in his sleep, he keeps his adorable frown. She smiles as she touches his face, her fingers tracing his jaw and cheekbone. His lashes are long and thick, and they tickle her fingertip as she runs a finger under a fringe. Under her feather-light touches, his skin tingles, and the area between his brows scrunches, his grip around her hips tightens and a soft grunt rolls off from his slightly parted mouth.

Her smile widens.

Soundlessly, she lifts her body and expectedly, his arm around her hips tenses, but she rubs his chest and his muscles relax. Leaning her weight on one elbow, with long, fine yarns of copper falling around his face as she hovers above his face, she cups his cheek. Their noses almost touch as she breathes into his lips.

"…Ichigo."

In two heartbeats, long, dark brown lashes lifted.

Brown meets gray, and her heart swells with so much, so much, _so much _emotions.

"Good morning."

And when she smiles, Ichigo thought,

_here it is, my smiling sunshine._


	49. little miss lover

**transmit**

It's the moments like this when he is awake and she is dreaming, when he says the words he never told her when she's awake.

_I love you._

He feels her heart skip a beat, she stops mumbling about nuclear robots and breast-shaped missiles. She lay still, lips parted, breathing even.

Somehow, he believes she hears him every time he says those words, piercing through her red bean paste, nuclear reactors, spaceships and rocket launchers dreams. The whispered words, he knows, sound like a bell, an echo inside her little universe.

And like many nights before, she cuddles closer and grips him tighter to her. And his heart skips a beat, tap dances and quiets.


	50. 波音

**for. **rainy-lullaby, the 330th! :D thanks so much for making me reach 300! 50 more to go, please bear with me :) first reviewer, a smut!gift? :) i kid, i kid. **note.** this is the 50th, gasp! i-i can't believe it! wow. thank you for inspiring me (and of course to the online one word prompt generator! XD)

**disclaimer.** eh. no no no never

* * *

**sink**

Her vision is a blur; it is like she is looking through a glass. What she sees are wavering or flickering images.

She sinks deeper, but her eyes remain open. She likes this feeling; to sink, to disappear, to forget, to heal, to let go and –

"INOUE!"

She blinks; water irritates her eyes and rushes inside her nose. Big hands grab at her bare shoulders; she is being lifted up to a sitting position and next thing she knows, she is coughing, she is catching her breath and she… she is alive again.

"What the… What the hell are you trying to do?"

Blinking and shivering, goosebumps rising in her naked skin, she focuses her confused gaze and meets Kurosaki Ichigo's glaring visage.

She blinks a couple of times, unsure of what she is seeing. Lips quiver as she opens her mouth to stutter, "K-K-Kurosa…ki-k-kun?"

This must be some lucid dream. However, the increasing tightness of the grip on her bare shoulders helps her realize that this visage is real.

"I said," He pauses to breathe, his amber eyes darkening, "What the hell are you trying to do? Are you trying to drown yourself? What the hell have you been thinking?"

"I… I'm…"

"What? Answer me, damn it!"

"I'm naked."

Ichigo looks bemused, his expression is blank. Vividly flushing, she heaves a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm naked," she repeats and hopes her words are clear despite her loudly, chattering teeth. "I think you should turn around…?"

His eyes quickly dart down and instantly, color floods his face. "R-right," he releases her shoulders and quickly spins around to face the white walls of the bathroom. "Sorry," he grunts, kneading the back of his neck. Orihime smiles at his stiff posture; she marvels at the sight of his towering height and powerful presence that fill the square bathroom, making the place smaller. Slowly and carefully, she gets out of the tub, dries herself and wears a fluffy, but old bathrobe.

"Um," her hair is still wet and curls in thick locks around her face and shoulders. "You can turn around now."

"Are… you decent?" Ichigo grunts.

"Yes. It's okay, Kurosaki-kun."

He exhales audibly and looks at her over his shoulder cautiously. A look of relief crosses his face when he sees her covered in white robe. He turns and faces her fully, looking stern yet again.

"So," he begins, clearly agitated. "Are you trying to drown yourself?" His voice sounds harder and harsher.

She looks away. "No."

"Look at me when you answer."

Orihime suppresses a sigh; it is difficult to look at Ichigo in the eye. But she does what he demands and looks into his eyes. "No."

He scowls as if to say _I don't believe you_, clearly trying to intimidate her with his scowl and height advantage. "Then what the hell are you doing down there? You're not supposed to stay underwater when taking a bath, _right_?"

"I…" She clears her throat and tries to maintain eye contact but it _is difficult._ Does Ichigo know that he can send her heart into a seizure just by looking at her like _that?_ Prolonged eye contact with Ichigo is stressful to her heart for it races like an F4 racing car. In short, it is _very very _fast.

Ichigo's scowl is darkening; Orihime realizes she needs to reply.

"I fell asleep." She chirps promptly.

His jaw falls slightly. Orihime smiles a little at his expression.

"What the hell." He deadpans. "You've got to be kidding me."

Orihime's lower lip curls. "I'm not."

"You are! Who the hell falls asleep in a bath tub?"

"Me, that's who," she pipes in, almond-colored eyes wide and defensive.

Ichigo grunts and scratches his hair. "This is weird."

"Yes it is." She agrees. "We're having a conversation inside my bathroom." She turns her face away, staring at the wall at her right. Ichigo stares at her underneath his lashes, eyes half-lidded.

"Right," Surprising her, he grabs her arm and pulls her out of the bathroom. They stopped in front of her room, both of them standing before it. Their figures cast a shadow over the wood.

"Well?" prods Ichigo. Orihime looks up at him; his expression is shadowed by his messy bangs. "What are you waiting for? We're going to be late."

She lowers her long lashes and fiddles with the knot in front of her robe. Ichigo watches the slow descent of a bead of water from a coiled lock of wet auburn hair.

"I'm not feeling well."

"Getting a cold?"

She bites her lip. He snorts.

"Serves you right," and then, he sighs. "How long did you stay in that bath tub, anyway? Alright, go change into something…" He coughs and she looks up to examine his face. He has turned away his face from her. "Just put on something. I'll wait in the living room." With that, he turns to go.

"Kurosaki-kun… You should go." He arches a brow at that and Orihime hastens to elaborate. "I mean, you're going to be late for class!"

"I'm already late." Ichigo answers with a shrug.

"Oh. I'm sorry…"

"Don't be. I think," he pauses, his expression is unreadable. "I'll stay here."

Her eyes widen. "S-Stay here…? But why?"

"To watch over you," he says nonchalantly, not looking at her directly.

Orihime reddens. Kurosaki-kun… Here… With her… Alone? Multiple scenarios run inside her mind. She mentally slaps herself when she remembers Tatsuki's advice. "You don't have—"

"Don't argue. And you're red. I think you're telling the truth. You're getting a fever."

"I don't—"

"I'll stay here for a while." He looks at her. The hallway is dim, only the right half of his face is visible to her. The way he looks at her silences her but at the same time, it makes her heart beat faster. There is a silence, so quiet, so strange that it feels like the world has faded around them.

Orihime blinks.

"I'm going to stay and look after you."

The silence shatters.

"Who knows what you're gonna do next."

"I'm not suicidal." She says quickly, almost sharply.

"I know. You're strong." He keeps looking at her with the same look in his eyes. It is uncomfortable but at the same time, she feels safe.

"…?"

"But I'll still look after you. Not just for today," he frowns. He opens his mouth to say something but shakes his head and says instead, "So… put on something, will you?"

Orihime reddens when she remembers she is completely naked under the robe. Her toes curl and her whole body flushes.

"Okay…" Again, there is _that _silence and _that _look. Orihime averts her gaze, puts a hand on the knob, rotates it and is about to push it open when she feels a hand on her shoulder. Orihime stops but keeps her face forward. For some reason, despite the robe she is wearing, she can still feel the warmth, almost scorching, of his palm on her bare skin.

"Don't be scared."

She bites her lower lip. Is she that easy to read?

"I'll look after you, OK?" His grip tightens, the warmth engulfs her body. "I won't let it happen again."

Her eyes widen when she feels his hot breath on her ear.

"I won't let you go."


	51. your voice saying my name is a love song

**radio**

_But I'm in so deep_

She likes listening to the radio. It breaks the silence. It fills the emptiness. It makes waiting a little bearable.

_You know that I'm such a fool for you~_

Sometimes she sings along with the radio. Sometimes she just watches it play, curled up on the couch, wearing one of his white button-down long sleeved shirts.

_You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha_~

_Do you have to let it linger_

_Do you have to _

_Do you have to let it ~_

The music abruptly breaks off. She smiles and her smile widens as she feels a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around her shoulders from behind, pulling her against a warm body. A warm breath ghosts behind her ear.

"Orihime."

_This_ voice sounds so much better than the radio.

"I'm home."

She closes her eyes and puts a hand atop of a large, stronger hand resting on one of her shoulders.

"Welcome home, Ichigo."


	52. daddy, don't preach

**tears**

She smiled at him prettily, "I'm sure you will get along well with my family."

He smiled, encouraged.

**.**

Get along with Kurosaki family?

A big, fat no.

**.**

It barely started but Tachibana Mamoru already came up with his conclusion: dinner with Kurosaki family was a traumatizing experience.

True, Kurosaki Orihime was the epitome of gentle beauty and she was probably one of the loveliest faces he had ever seen. She was also kind and appreciative. But her husband…

Mamoru felt his figurative self tremble and crumble under the man's glare.

If Kurosaki Orihime was like a goddess because of her kindness and outer appearance, Kurosaki Ichigo was _the_ walking and breathing terror. While Orihime smiled and laughed, the man only pointed and grunted. Mamoru wondered how those two different people – their differences were a hundred galaxies apart – ended up together. That was unfair! This type of relationship existed only in paperbacks (that was his cynical inner voice).

(but at least, Masaki-chan was really pretty like her mother, with darker shade of auburn, almost orange, like her mother's hair color, but her eyes… they were the eyes of _that _man, except that hers were smiling brown eyes.)

And their sons— Mamoru fidgeted under the scrutiny – were carbon copies of their father. He was lucky that there were only two sons present. According to Masaki, she had five older brothers. Yamato-kun was not a glaring statue of a young man. He looked bored. Meanwhile, Kazuki-kun looked curious but was frowning.

"Who the hell are you?" A thunderous voice snapped.

Instantly, Mamoru's figurative self took a plummet to Hell.

"Otou-san!" Masaki bristled.

"Ichigo," the wife said softly.

The husband grunted, his eyes resembling fires of hell. Mamoru felt suffocated. The intimidating aura of the man (including his sons) was oppressive. However, the kind disposition of Orihime-san's presence balanced the suffocating, hatred-filled aura of her husband. Orihime smiled at him kindly before putting a hand on her husband's forearm.

"Ichigo, his name is Mamoru-kun." The man's eyebrows made a deep V. A muscle twitched on the Kurosaki's jaw.

"And what the hell is he doing here?"

Mamoru was having a mental breakdown.

"We, yes _we,_" Orihime emphasized when Ichigo opened his mouth to refute, "invited him to join us tonight to get to know him better." The man's gaze zeroed in on him, all sharp eyes and scowling mouth. Under the scrutiny, Mamoru felt like a piece of cheese – being grated and shredded into pieces.

_Oh god. _The man was scary. Bright orange hair, hard eyes and—

"I don't like him."

"Otou-san!"

"Ichigo!"

The husband seemed to crumble under his wife's plaintive stare. She looked a little upset, her bottom lip under her small teeth and a frown on her pretty face. Her expression clearly translated to "That's rude" which the husband seemed to understand. With a grunt, the man turned his face away, gritting his teeth, his strong shoulders slumped in defeat.

"So, Mamoru-kun," Orihime began brightly, "Tell us something about yourself."

"Um," Mamoru slightly flushed. "I can paint, Ma'am."

Orihime's eyes rounded. "Oh!" She clapped once. "That's amazing! I'm a book illustrator, by the way."

Mamoru could not help but smile a little. "Hai, Masaki-chan told me." Orihime beamed at her only daughter.

"What else, Mamoru-kun?" asked Orihime kindly, genuinely curious.

"Err, I can play the piano…"

Soft honey eyes widened. "Oh, you're not only a painter but also a musician. That's great!"

"HMPH."

Orihime ignored her husband. "Is there anything else you want to share with us, Mamoru-kun?"

"I—"

"HMPH."

Mamoru visibly deflated. Orihime pursed her lips; Ichigo grunted, took his fork and stabbed at his meal; Masaki glared at her father; Yamato watched the drama blankly; Kazuki looked at Mamoru.

"Mamoru-kun?"

He was sweating profusely. "I—"

"Knock, knock!"

Kurosaki Ichigo whipped his head around. "WHAT THE FUCK."

Mamoru stiffened; he was the all around nice guy, a breathing saint, his friends described him. He didn't smoke, drink or curse. Hearing such vulgar words was a shock to his system and to his virgin, sensitive ears.

Masaki's father stood up so quickly. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

The man wasn't yelling but Mamoru swore that Kurosaki Ichigo just hit the CAPSLOCK key.

A blond man, followed by a redheaded man, snickered. "Yo,"

"I SAID WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU— _don't touch my wife so familiarly, you bastard!_"

Mamoru gaped, _this man… is SCARY!_

"Jeez…" The redhead rolled his eyes and sat down on the empty chair beside Kazuki. "Yo, Kazuki! Whoa, this looks delicious…"

"Hi Orihime-chan, my first love~"

This seemed to infuriate the Kurosaki patriarch even more. "YOU DON'T GO CALLING SOMEONE'S WIFE YOUR FIRST LOVE, YOU ASS."

"Ichigo!" Orihime-san tried to intervene. "We have a guest. Please, control yourself." The man only breathed through his nose, eyes flashing.

"Oh, a guest?" The two (unwelcomed) visitors looked at Mamoru. Under the scrutiny, Mamoru twitched nervously. A grin split the blond man's face into halves. He looked happy, _too _happy that it was scary.

"Who's he?"

"He's my boyfriend, Shinji-jichan!"

The man called Shinji looked surprised at first, and then a gleefully sadistic grin replaced the initial reaction. "Oho~ Masaki-chan's boyfriend," He chuckled. "No wonder your father's like that, angry as a bull."

That was a pun which further irritated Ichigo.

"You're one brave soul, eh?" The redhead commented nonchalantly. The blond grinned.

"…Hmm. Let's have a bet, Renji. His head will go first…"

"Nah, Ichigo will cut off that thing between his legs first…"

"Oh yeah! But I prefer shredding him into pieces… like wet paper tissue…"

Mamoru could only gape in terror. The two newcomers were looking at him; though their expressions were nonchalant, their auras were cold and heavy. _Who are these people! H-H-How could they… Somebody… help me! _

"Shinji-kun! You and Ichigo are the same," sighed Orihime. "Please treat Mamoru-kun kindly."

The blond feigned a hurt look. "I am crushed! My first love compared me to her idiotic husband!"

"Do you want me to kill you?" hissed Ichigo.

"Ichigo!"

"Jeez… Everyone's so loud and annoying," Yamato deadpanned. "Except from you, Kaa-san," Orihime beamed at her son.

Shinji chuckled. "Your sons have favorites, Ichigo,"

"Shut up and leave my house! And you, Renji!"

The redhead paused from shoving a piece of pork in his mouth. "What? What did I do wrong, you bastard?"

"LEAVE MY HOUSE, NOW!"

"Ne, Renji-kun, where's Rukia-chan?"

"I left her at Urahara's shop, she cannot walk with her stomach that big, you know."

"I SAID, _LEAVE_!"

"Daddy! This is supposed to be a special dinner! Do you have a period?" Masaki scowled.

Ichigo swelled like a saber tooth tiger.

"I don't like him." He snorted stubbornly.

"Daddy!"

"I like him, Masaki." Renji said.

"Thank you!"

"I don't like him!" Ichigo repeated forcefully. Masaki rolled her eyes.

"Well, he looks okay, Masaki-chan, as long as he keeps his penis—" Shinji began flippantly but Ichigo roared about 'bastard corrupting his children' while Orihime sighed.

"Thank you, Shinji-jichan!"

"I DON'T LIKE HIM!" Ichigo was writhing now.

Masaki scowled, Ichigo scowled back.

Orihime smiled at her only daughter. "Don't worry, Masaki-chan. I like Mamoru-kun." At this, Mamoru smiled at the kind woman gratefully. But this earned more scorn from the Scary Man.

"You, don't smile _at my wife._"

Shinji and Renji rolled their eyes; Orihime merely sighed.

"And you two get the hell out of my house!"

"What the hell's wrong with you? You _do_ really have your period."

"SHUT UP!"

The three males went out of the dining room, bickering loudly. Orihime sighed and stood up. "I am so sorry, Masaki-chan. Mamoru-kun." She smiled apologetically at the young couple. "Your timing's not right. My husband is tired and when he's tired, he's more liable to lose his temper."

"But dad's hot tempered most of the time," said Kazuki. Yamato rolled his eyes, chewing lazily. Orihime giggled.

"Hai, Kazuki-kun. Continue with your dinner, okay? I already called Aki-kun, Sakuya-kun, and Hayate-kun. They'll be here in twenty minutes. The train was late, isn't it odd?" Orihime smiled again as they heard a loud smack coming from the living room. "Alright, I'll leave now. I have to make sure your daddy's not going to break another door."

**.**

"So," Masaki began. Mamoru blinked at her.

"Huh?"

Masaki smiled slightly; she had her mother's smile, Mamoru noted.

"What do you think?"

Mamoru frowned, "I think… that question is something that you should ask your father."

"We already know what he feels about you." Masaki said. "What about you? What do you think?" Her lashes lowered. "Do… Do you still like me?"

He took her hand. "Of course, I do." Mamoru sighed. "But your father hates me."

Masaki laughed. "That's obvious."

"At least your mother likes me."

"My mom likes a lot of things and people." She teased.

"Your parents have… very… interesting friends." Mamoru commented carefully.

Masaki nodded. "Yeah, they're their friends since high school. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah…"

"Don't worry about my dad."

"How can you say that?" _He's murdering me just by looking at me!_

"We have a trump card." Masaki said cheerfully, her amber eyes glowing.

"We do?" asked Mamoru.

"Yes…" The girl smiled triumphantly. "I know my father's one and only weakness."

"I doubt it." Kurosaki Ichigo looked like a man who had no fears. His face was hard and strong, his eyes were hard as well. He was the type of man who can get past anything, Mamoru thought. The man, he felt, was not only strong physically, but also mentally and emotionally.

"Doubt what?"

"Your father… I refuse to believe he has a weakness."

Masaki laughed. "Oh, trust me, he _has _a weakness."

"What is it?" asked Mamoru curiously. Masaki gave a small smile, her eyes suddenly distant.

"My mother's tears,"

Mamoru blinked. "Your mother's…"

"Tears. He hates it when my mom cries. As a matter of fact, he can't take it when my mom cries."

Mamoru stared. Well, that's… understandable. Orihime-san was someone he would not like to see cry. But that man, tears as his weakness? It was unbelievable, and yet…

"It hurts him, you know." The girl continued softly. Mamoru watched her face; this topic, it seemed, was delicate. "I know I've told you how much I dislike my father's over protectiveness and stubbornness. But really, underneath his tough façade, he's really a softie that it's almost ridiculous."

Mamoru looked thoughtful.

"So, he would not have a choice!" Mamoru watched her face transformed. "He'll have to accept our relationship or else my mother will cry!"

"Masaki… I don't want to make your mother cry—"

At this, the girl snorted a small laughter. "As if my father would _let you _make her cry." She teased. "Don't worry about it. Sooner or later, my father will accept you. You'll just have to be strong and sturdy, Mamoru-kun."

"But isn't this cheating, Masaki?" asked Mamoru.

Masaki furrowed her brows. "No it isn't! This is what we call strategy. This is the only way for us to beat Daddy!"

Mamrou sweat-dropped, "Alright, if that's what you want, Masaki," he conceded. He just wished he'll be able to endure Kurosaki Ichigo's deadly scowls…

**.**

Orihime opened the door; her husband was lying on his side, glaring at the wall. Smiling, she closed the door behind her and quietly lay down beside him. Orihime put a thin arm over his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder and smiling at his scent. Ichigo didn't move to face her but he took her hand and tucked it under his chin, still glaring at the wall.

"I know I was rude." He grunted. Orihime giggled.

"You're just tired."

"You always make excuses for me, Hime."

"But it's true."

"I don't like him." Ichigo said stubbornly. "He's a wimp."

"He's not a wimp. He's very polite, Ichigo."

"I still don't like him."

"Oh Ichigo…"

"Look, she's too young—"

"She's fifteen. It's normal for a girl her age to have a boyfriend."

"She's still young!"

"Mamoru-kun is just a boyfriend. It's not like she's going to marry him now…"

"But she's so young!"

Orihime sighed at her husband's stubbornness.

"Do you remember when she was seven and she told me that I _will _always be her number one man? Do you remember?" He demanded.

"Yes, I do." She replied patiently.

"She broke her promise! What am I to her now, her old man?"

Orihime giggled. Ichigo sounded oddly hysterical.

"It's not funny,"

"I'm sorry but it's just… cute."

"Hell no, it's not! She's my only girl! And now she has a boyfriend? I won't allow some lowlife to touch my precious little girl!"

"You know, you have to stop scaring off boys… You don't want Masaki-chan to grow as an old maid, do you?"

"I only want the best for my girl."

"I know…"

"And that wimp is… graaaar! He's weak, pathetic, I don't like his brown hair, he's skinny and he's _too _pale!"

Orihime laughed. "Oh Ichigo, you're jealous, aren't you?"

"I am _not _jealous!"

"You are."

"I am not!"

She cuddled closer. "Don't worry, Ichi. You will always be my number one." She said softly. "No, actually, you will always be my only one."

"…"

"…"

"…I remembered the day when I first saw your brother."

She blinked.

"He told me he will not give you to me. Now, I fully understand his feelings. Not wanting to give away someone so important…"

"Hmm… I understand your feelings, too, Ichigo. Masaki-chan is our only daughter. It's normal for you to be very protective over her. But Masaki-chan loves him. Give him chance, OK?"

Ichigo snorted.

"I _still _don't like him!"

"Oh Ichigo… You are my only one, so cheer up already. And stop glaring at our walls, please."


	53. in one swipe,

**fate**

.

.

**i.**

The hollow, it came out of nowhere.

In one swipe, she was gone.

.

.

**ii.**

It was raining that day.

It never stopped raining after that.

.

.

**iii.**

They said she was too young to die, too kind, too beautiful with too much love to give.

They said they could have a long, if not forever, happy ever after.

.

.

**iv.**

Their friends mourned and will grieve forever.

He didn't have to grieve that long.

.

.

**v.**

He died three days after.


	54. look at me and tell me what you see

**note. **yay! so very tired (sob) but happy! thanks very much for your reviews! also, thank you **alastor** for your reviews. oh my gosh, 54th already! :D thank you so much for clicking, reading and feedbacks! very, very much appreciated. if you have extra time, please join TANABATA contest!**  
additional note. **this is very familiar, yes? stolen from _a chocolate mock tale_!

* * *

**glance**

He never told her he loved her.

They held hands. They went out. They kissed.

And he never told her he loved her.

He said he liked her auburn hair, her eyes. He said he liked her hips than her breasts. He said he liked her legs than her hips.

And he never told her he loved her.

She said she loved him. She said she _is _in love with him. She said his scowls were the best, and better than red bean paste.

And he never told her he loved her.

He asked her to marry him. She said yes. They married.

And he said, "I want to die first."

She stared at him, eyes big, bright and so-gray.

"I won't let you die. I'll die _first._"

"Ichigo…"

They held hands. They kissed. They had sex.

And he said, as he held her, as he kissed her, as he thrust into her, "I won't let you die first. I won't let you leave me."

"I know." She whispered softly. "I know."

"Orihime."

He never told her he loved her.

She didn't mind. She never had.

"I love you, too."

She didn't have to.

Because he always, _always _looked at her.


	55. jessica hatchigan

**note. **lol, i'm loading all the old, deleted flashfics here. once again, this one's from _a chocolate mock tale_. well, _mock tale_ is a collection of adult-rated stuffs and this one is for kiddies XD don't click on _mock tale_ if you're not 20 years old, yeah!

* * *

**go**

Ichigo tries not to hold on tight, afraid his grip might crush her. But it is her who holds onto his hand, so tight that it hurt, so tight that he cannot breathe, yet –

_don't let go._

He wants to say, but words tumble inside his throat, in his chest.

"It is time."

Both of them look up. It is Shun-o. The fairy lowers his gaze, unable to meet his princess' eyes.

"Yes, Shun-o." Orihime whispers.

He tries, oh so hard, to mask his fears, his hesitation. But this is the only way for her to live.

_for her to smile forever and ever and ever with rainbows on her hair, flowers on her ear and the sun on her face_

"Orihime."

"Ichigo…kun."

Her voice sounds so tired. And he is afraid. While he struggles to talk, he crushes her body to his chest, cups her face and whispers in his paper-thin voice,

_that keeps trying to stay strong, pretending, pretending_

"…just – I, don't forget. Try not to forget."

Her gray eyes are the largest eyes he has ever seen. So-gray, so-deep that it scares Ichigo that _someday, _he will not be able to see his face reflected in them. But he tries to hope. He will hope.

_and hope, hope and hope, yes yes yes yes he will because_

A soft giggle comes from her.

"You know me, Ichigo. I always forget."

His grip tightens.

_and does not let go until –_

"Please, make me remember."

Ichigo closes his eyes.

"I will."

Orihime closes her eyes.

_until –_

"I reject."


	56. einstein and a love quote

**gravity**

"I love you,"

"…really?"

"You're questioning me? I am offended."

"Ah! No! It's just…"

"What?"

"I can't believe Kurosaki-kun loves me as well."

"Baka. That's my line."

"Eh?"

"I can't believe _you_'re in love with _me_."

"Mm…"

"Well, _why_ are you in love with me?"

"I like your…abs?"

"How shallow!"

"Ehee! Ah! You… you smell _really_ good."

"…even my morning breath?"

"Yes,"

"I don't believe you."

"But I kiss you every morning to wake you up!"

"…hmm, you have a point."

"…"

"…Well? What else? You have to make a solid point, you know. Convince me."

"Maybe, because of gravity, Kurosaki-kun."

"Why gravity?"

"Mmm, it made me _fall_ helplessly in love with you!"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…you're trying to be funny, aren't you?"

"How mean~"

"Baka. You can't blame gravity."

"Really,"

"Yeah, Albert Einstein—"

"_The_ Albert Einstein?"

"Yeah, _that _Einstein, now listen. He said falling in love is not at all the most stupid thing that people do- but gravitation cannot be held responsible for it."

"…mmm,"

"So, what's your answer? Why me?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…your abs are really, really good,"

"…I knew I shouldn't have asked."


	57. big hands are for made for big things

**warning! **innuendo. i blame my friends, crazy dinner dates and dead brains for this one; might inspire gagging and flailing.

* * *

**sanitizer**

When Shinji tossed a plastic bottle at him, Ichigo was unprepared. He took the hit right between his eyes, causing him to double up in pain and curse the blond son of a bitch. The small bottle, which bounced off his face, made its way to Kensei who swiftly caught it in his hand. The man looked at it briefly, at Shinji then to the cursing young Vizard and back to the plastic bottle. A tic developed in his forehead as Kensei read and understood Shinji's wide and knowing grin.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?"

When Kensei threw the plastic bottle at Ichigo, the orange-haired was prepared. Frowning, he looked at the item in his hand. It was a plastic bottle filled with clear liquid and small bubbles. He turned the bottle: _kills 99.9% of germs. _With an arched brow, he glared at Shinji.

"Hand sanitizer?"

If possible, the grin on Shinji's face widened. "Yep, be thankful, no? I picked strawberry-scented to match your name, Berry boy."

Ichigo was unimpressed, probably due to the fact that he didn't understand what Shinji was trying to imply.

"What is this for," he said without a hint of gratitude.

Shnji preened before replying, his expression condescending while his tone was patient as though he was talking to a child.

"I refuse to engage in a hand to hand combat with someone who had a Moment with his hand."

Ichigo, to his credit, looked innocently confused. "A…what?"

Shinji continued, "I know you won't have enough time to wash up after you finish cleaning up. So I took the initiative to give you a hand sanitizer. Don't worry. The hand-sanitizer I picked for you has anti-bacterial property. As you can see, it kills 99.9% of germs. It will _purify_ your hands."

Ichigo, it seemed, had already an idea. His facial expression suggested that he was having a slow but sure mental breakdown.

"Also," continued Shinji, "It will leave your hands feeling soft… and refreshed."

"Have some mercy on your Zanpakuto. Wash your hands _thoroughly, _got it?" Kensei said bluntly. Love and Rose looked at Ichigo with mixed expressions; Hiyori looked disgusted while Hacchi was blushing faintly. Lisa looked curious while Mashiro badgered Hacchi about what everyone was talking about.

Shinji walked over and casually draped an arm around Ichigo's shoulders. "Aw, guys, you can't blame Ichigo, you know." He drawled, watching Ichigo's face. The teen's face was red with horror and embarrassment. "If I were Ichigo and I'm stuck here instead of having Adult Time with beautiful Orihime-chan," he glanced at Ichigo. "I'd get very _lonely_ too. Good thing you have your big hand as your best friend, right, Ichigo?"

Ichigo jerked and pushed Shinji off of him. "SHUT UP!" The boy made a move to lunge at Shinji to kill him _a little_.

"Oi, oi! Don't touch me with those hands! Disinfect your hands first—"

"BANKAI!"

"I pity his Zanpakuto," said Love.

Rose nodded. "I bet Zangetsu wants to drown himself in a bathtub of sanitizer."


	58. these shoes are made for walking

**constant**

The classroom is empty except for a girl. She stands beside her desk, facing the window.

It is quiet.

A male pair of feet in black shoes appears in the doorway. An anxious pause; three seconds pass.

The feet on the doorway move inside the classroom and stop three steps behind the girl's immobile feet.

"Hey, Inoue, are you busy?"

Her school shoes do not make a sound as she turns.

"Eh? Kurosaki-kun, you're still here?"

"Are you busy? Like right now?"

"No, I'll just have to say bye to Tatsuki-chan and— EH!"

"Let's go."

"But Tatsuki-chan…"

Two pairs of feet are walking out of the room, continuing down the hallway. They pause at the lockers, change footwear. Eleven minutes later, they are out of the school vicinity.

"Don't worry. I told her I'll be walking you home."

"Y-You will…?"

"Yeah."

"Where are we going?"

Fast, brisk footsteps:

Pair of pant-clad legs swings powerfully forward, followed by clumsy, slim, pale legs. The path is unfamiliar, but she does not mind. She is curious. She follows him. The sole of their shoes scuff the ground – _scuff, scuff_.

Many feet and many legs move, back and forth, back and forth, left to right, left to right, in many directions. Some cross the street; some continue walking down the same sidewalk; many stayed in intersections.

Shuffle. Trudge. Slow footsteps, fast footsteps.

"Kurosaki-kun…?"

A pair of holding hands.

A hand that wields a sword and a hand that heals. Slim fingers slowly, almost shyly, wrap themselves around calloused fingers. His grip tightens. She grips back.

"Kurosaki-kun, where are we going? Oh! Don't get me wrong! I like being with you and I will go wherever you want to go as long as you want me to go with you!"

It is silent.

They continue.

The sounds are _tap, tap, tap. _

"Okaaay~ we're in an adventure of a lifetime! Ne, Kurosaki-kun, are we going to a secretive secret place? Maybe we should—"

His feet stop. Hers continue and she walks into his back.

"Ow! Sorry!"

The grip on her hand tightens.

"Kurosaki-kun, your back is so strong! I remember when Kenpachi-san carried me to his back and—"

"I want you to meet someone."

"…someone?"

"Yeah,"

The boy turns around. They are face to face now, standing close to each other, holding each others' hands. There is a seven inch distance between their shoes. The boy does not step back, neither the girl.

"Is it… alright?"

"Of course! I'd love to! It will be such an honor."

"Okay… We'll walk slower. Sorry, I didn't mean to drag you. I'm just…"

His right foot fidgets.

"Just…?"

He turns; the two pairs of feet continue in a slower, even pace. His steps are longer, hers are small, but sure. Those feet are willing to follow his.

"Damn… I'm nervous."

"Nervous?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Well, it's _you_."

"Me?"

"Yeah… _You_ make me nervous."

"…Oh."

Shuffle.

Trudge.

The path is steeper; it evens. Stone markers appear in precise lines. This is familiar, she thinks.

He stops. This time, she manages not to be clumsy.

"Here we are."

"Hmm?"

Her feet shuffle to rest next to his.

It is silent.

Two pairs of feet stand beside to each other. They are standing in front of a gravestone.

A pair of holding hands, a hand that wields a sword holds a hand that heals.

"Hey there,"

She shifts her feet shyly, pawing the ground. He is steady in his feet.

"This is Inoue Orihime…"

The bashful shifting stops and it is his turn to fidget. But she holds his hand tighter, it is a strange comfort. He holds hers and he visibly relaxes.

"…Mom."

There is a pause, a silence so serene.

Her shoes do not make a sound when she turns to face the boy. His shoes, however, scrape the ground as the boy shifts to the left awkwardly, facing the girl.

"…Thank you, Kurosaki-kun."

The heels of her shoes leave the ground as she tiptoes. His feet stay flat on the ground.

.

.

.

.

.

And for a long time, these two pairs of feet walk next to each other. Oftentimes, they chase after each other, ballet flats skip after brooding footsteps; red Chuck Taylors trudge after the bouncy steps. But most of the time, they tread next to each other. Sometimes they run, sometimes they dance (clumsily).

.

.

.

.

.

Years pass. Decades pass. Lifetimes pass.

.

.

.

.

.

The classroom is empty except for a girl. She stands beside her desk, facing the window.

It is quiet.

A male pair of feet in black shoes appears in the doorway. An anxious pause; three seconds pass.

The feet on the doorway move inside the classroom and stop three steps behind the girl's immobile feet.

"Hey, Inoue, are you busy?"

* * *

**note.** zomg! hi~ so sorry for the late update buuut right now~ we're back in regular schedule! this. really, really, _really_ weird. i don't even HAHA. inspired by a set of shoes/feet icons & banners. WEIRD. WEIRDDDD. will post another one tomorrow! thank you, thank you so much for reading and leaving reviews/critiques. REALLY. :)


	59. the firefly

**arrow**

There is a flash of gold, zipping and spinning, lighting up the darkness. There is a roar, followed by a powerful, "GETSUGA TENSHOU!"

The hollow disintegrates.

"Amazing as usual, Ichigo-kun!"

The tall, orange-haired young man glances over his shoulder to smirk at his adoring girlfriend. "Thanks, Orihime." The auburn-haired girl beams at him fondly, a bright flash of light returning to her periwinkle hairclip. She is glad that she is able to contribute in her own way.

"You're welcome." Orihime steps closer, looking up at him with her big, worried eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine." The white wrappings fly around the large blade of Zangetsu as he puts it on his back. "Thanks for helping me."

"Oh yes! Tsubaki-kun flies really fast, isn't he?"

The corner of his mouth turns up in a small smile. "Yeah," Orihime smiles brightly and Ichigo could not help but reach forward to trace her smiling lips. She flushes, a tingle tickling her spine and the back of her neck, but she tilts her blushing face upward as Ichigo leans forward.

There is another flash of light. It hit Ichigo in the face.

"Ow!" Ichigo pulls back, clutching his cheek. "What the hell —"

Orihime, on the other hand, gasps, wide-eyed. "Tsubaki-kun!"

In an instant, the dark glowering fairy is hovering right in front of Ichigo's face. "You." It snarls, fiercely like a miniature lion. "Keep your paws off of her!"

"Paws? What the hell am I, an animal?" Ichigo snarls back.

Furthermore, the retort makes Tsubaki shrivel in irritation. "I do not approve of you! You are stupid and filthy! I hate your orange hair, your face disgusts me, your attitude pisses me off, you are an idiot, you are rude, domineering, arrogant, annoying and you paw at her like a wild animal!"

"I do not approve of your summary of my character, either." Ichigo deadpans.

"HAH. So what? Who cares about your opinion! You're nothing but a jerk who cannot control his damn hormones! I should sue you for your impure intentions!"

Ichigo lifts a brow. "Are you kidding me? Orihime _likes _it when I _paw _at her."

The fairy throbs as if in a verge of exploding into pieces. "YOU ARE VIOLATING HER, TAINTING HER INNOCENCE!"

"Tsubaki-kun, please, calm down." Orihime intervenes.

Tsubaki brandishes a shaking finger at her. "HE'S TRYING TO RAPE YOU!" Orihime flushes, mortified.

Ichigo snorts. "Whatever, dude. I am not raping her. A rape is not a rape if the victim is willing."

"Ichigo-kun!" Orihime gasps, very embarrassed – she, she is not _that _eager, is she?

"YOU… RAPIST!"

"Tch. Idiot,"

The two hotheads head butt, teeth bared, eyes flashing.

"Ichigo-kun! Tsubaki-kun, please stop and get back in here." Orihime taps her hairpin. "Tsubaki!"

Tsubaki shoves Ichigo's face with his feet, dodges Ichigo's fist and yanks at Ichigo's nose before flying backwards and slamming himself back in her hairpin.

"Everybody's a critic: first, your brother, your best friend, your crazy _female _admirer and now, _that _firecracker. Why is everyone against me?" Ichigo grouses, rubbing his nose. In fact, the only person who seems to support him is Sado (plus Zangetsu and his Hollow, who thinks Orihime is "Yummy" and "Hot" – not comforting, really.)

"Oh, don't worry, Ichigo." She hugs his arm, looking up at him with an affectionate smile. "I love you very much!"

With intense, half-lidded amber eyes, Ichigo smirks and grabs her hand, bringing her closer. "Right," he grins at her crookedly. "Who cares about your idiot fairy when I have you?"

Orihime pouts, "He's not an idiot."

Ichigo rolls his eyes. "Fine, just jealous,"

"Jealous?"

"Didn't you notice?"

Orihime blinks at him innocently. "Notice what?"

He raises a brow at her. "He likes you." Ichigo replies flatly.

"He likes—"

There is _another _golden flash and, "I'LL KILL YOU, CARROT TOP!"


	60. sleeping beauty

**tragic**

"Kurosaki-kun, for five lifetimes… I will fall in love with the same person."

She says, she promises and she dies.

.

.

.

.

.

**i.**

Only Orihime can make dying so beautiful.

She lay there, immobile, a still doll. Pretty, little thing clad in white.

Her eyes are wide, bright like sunshine. Her mahogany hair under her is soaked with red, it is her blood. She is beautiful while she bleeds. She says the most beautiful things. She promises the most beautiful things.

.

.

.

.

**ii.**

There is silence.

The sounds of war fade away in the background. All he can hear is the sound of her blood flowing out of her wound, spreading, _spreading _and there are echoes too, words that flow like water _Kurosaki-kun, for five lifetimes… I will fall in love with the same person—_

He blinks and leans closer to inspect.

The cloudless skies reflect in her big eyes. She is sleeping, he tells himself, she is tired and now she sleeps. He keeps quiet. He does not scream, he does not cry. He lets her sleep.

.

.

.

**iii.**

He has the strangest urge to kiss her. He moves to do so but stops. She is a sleeping princess, isn't she? A kiss will wake her, so he stops and stares deeply into her out of focus eyes.

This is weird, he thinks. Her eyes are open, her cheeks are pale, she isn't breathing and… she isn't breathing.

Orihime isn't breathing.

No, she is merely sleeping, he tells himself. She is tired of the fighting, of the noise. She needs to sleep, that is all. So he waits beside her while holding her cold hand.

.

.

**iv.**

Hours pass. Days pass.

She lay there, immobile, a still doll. Pretty, little thing clad in white.

He sits there, immobile, a still knight. Handsome, sturdy thing clad in black.


	61. extra: fifty sentences

**note.** 50 themes by **eloni** from flol; _45 _is not a prompt; references to 'body of a woman, white hills, white thighs' & 'the city rises and falls'; this is an extra chapter! thank you, thank you so much for reading and reviewing, you guys ARE AMAZING :D and yay, 60 flashfics, mou, that's so _lolwhut!_ for a lazy person like me with poor attention span, this is amazing! so yes, thank you very much! ichihime ftw, yo!**  
warning/s.** sentences are rated **t**, rated **m/nc-17**; explicit ; post-canon ; IchiHime ; language ; mature theme ; compound sentences!

* * *

_white hills, white thighs_

* * *

**ghost **

Once, while making love, she tells him how warm he is that it makes her forget that sometimes, they have sex while he is in his shinigami form.

**cloud nine **

With her knuckles on her mouth and voluptuous body covered in thick sweat, Ichigo watches her shake as she comes beautifully apart under him, and he thinks that she is lovely, that he wants to do it with her again.

**diary **

He will never tell her, but one of the reasons why he is _so _good – aside from the fact that he is_ naturally_ good— is that he found an innocent-looking notebook of hers, filled with scribbles of what she thinks are her dreams of predictions for the future.

**predator **

There is a look in his eyes that scares her sometimes; but to be honest, _that_ look makes her lose her control, thus transforming her from a prey to a predator.

**a world away **

Every time they make love, it bridges the gap between their two different worlds.

**missing **

When he fills the chasm between her legs, she whispers a thankful prayer.

**fear **

Sometimes when he's too fast and too rough, he fears he is hurting her but the feeling of dread disappears when she moans his name and demands for more.

**scars **

He never tells her but his favorite foreplay involves her lips kissing and her tongue licking every scar.

**monster **

"When I'm with you, I wish I was a better man."

**unbound **

There are nights when they make love, there are nights when they have sex and there are nights when they fuck but whether they make love, fuck, have sex, every encounter is an uncontrollable explosion of love and lust.

**stress **

"Ichigo," she says one night, looking at him with her big honey eyes, gloriously naked, lovely and serene, "Do you mind helping me relax…?"

**elegy **

Today is 06/17 and he's supposed to mourn for the dead but not tonight; Ichigo lets Orihime dull his grief by letting her fuck his brains out.

**heaven **

"I love you," and it is enough.

**September **

"We'll be married in September, maybe a day after your birthday," he promises against her cheek, and Orihime smiles in a way that urges him to kiss those lips again and remind her she's his, and he's hers.

**memories**

Her release produced by her own slick fingers were inspired by the vivid memories he imprinted into her, helping her cure the loneliness she feels when he's away to save the world and she's alone.

**bittersweet **

"I love you," she is saying, "I love you so… much…" she tells him, promises him while she dies oh so beautifully.

**falling **

It's supposed to be a casual love affair where she lets him fuck her, where he lets her make love to him, but, as days pass, he often find himself telling her to catch him because, "I'm falling."

**lie **

"It's okay. I've moved on. I don't love you anymore, so it's okay," she whispers one night, when it is July and it is raining, outside and inside her heart.

**revelation **

He confessed when she least expected it; it happened when she found him in a room, touching himself while moaning her name.

**angel **

How can someone who looks angelic drive him to do the raciest, dirtiest things?

**photograph **

_Snap, snap, snap _and Rukia suppressed laughter, reminding herself to thank Urahara, rather begrudgingly, for her new, high-tech Hollow-detector phone with built-in camera and to run fast once Ichigo and Orihime found out who took their pictures in such racy position.

**guilt **

He should not be here, he was ready to walk away, but she would whisper his name, and he knew, as many times as he told himself that _this_ would be the last time, that _this_ was not right, that _this _would have to end, he knew, he didn't have the strength to walk away.

**exile **

"You'll be safe, _safer_ when you're away from me, so go and don't look back, go and never come back," he says firmly, but deep inside, he is saying _run, run away with _me.

**oblivion **

When she says, "Who are you?", he tells himself over and over again, like a broken record, _it doesn't fucking hurt, it doesn't fucking hurt. , it doesn't fucking hurt._

**closer **

She smiles at him in a way that makes him dizzy, that makes his heart break into pieces, that makes him ache, and he could not help himself but move closer until they are one.

**fantasy **

Orihime always dreams of him in a purple tights and golden crown; Ichigo always dreams of her with nothing on but strawberry-printed knee socks.

**silence **

And she screams his name, breaking the silence.

**miracle **

She says, "Yes," and Ichigo realizes miracles exist.

**reverie **

"What are you thinking about?" asks Ichigo to which Orihime replies with a soft, innocent, "I think we need to practice more," before straddling his hips.

**numb **

"If you forget to breathe, I'll breathe for you," he tells her eleven days after the Winter War as she lies on the hospital bed, too dead to respond, too broken to breathe, too lovely to waste away.

**flowers**

He leisurely licks at her pink petals, topped with a lovely pink rose bud, scattered with thin honey hairs, the scent sweet and tangy, and deliriously addicting.

**storm **

Orihime is glad for the loud noises and bright thunder lights as the sky cries and floods the world with its tears; they muffle the moans and groans inside her apartment as she and Ichigo twist and twine.

**you**

"You were just a thought, an idea… you became a dream… and now, a reality."

**forever**

She never asks for eternal love and devotion, "I want you to live for _me _for as long as you can."

**game**

Orihime bites her lip hard and tries to disappear in the background but her heart leaps violently as a hand grabs her hair and an arm wraps around her hips, forcing her against a warm, hard body, "Time's up," she hears him drawl, "Get ready for round two."

**battle**

Sex is like a battle; a struggle in bed where Ichigo seeks to conquer, to dominate, to break, and where Orihime always wins by a soft touch, an innocent purr and a lovely smile.

**lost**

There is a room inside her heart where she weeps and hides because she feels so lost despite of the fact that she is merely trapped.

**not alone**

She suppresses her cry of pleasure by biting her lips, shivering at her own release, oblivious to a pair of amber eyes heatedly watching her from the shadows beside her window.

**promises**

"I don't need promises," she says one spring day when it is warm and everything blossoms, and he promises her, not five lifetimes but infinity, "I need _you._"

**freak**

"You're not a freak, you're special," Orihime remembers Sora telling her as she sits on her chair in the middle of the 'special' room Soul Society has made for her, a 'special' room with iron bars, a 'special' room for a 'special freak' like her.

**rain**

She gasps and writhes against him, panting as he thrust in and slides out – the sound of _pit pat _of the rain hitting the window behind her strangely matches the pace of their loud, messy lovemaking.

**words**

"P-Please," she says shakily, shyly, "I love you, I –" and Ichigo loses control.

**hell**

The lance, or spear or – "I'LL KILL YOU!" he screams later – sword, it pierces her skin and exposes her bleeding heart to him and hell, hell hath no fury like Ichigo in despair.

**protection**

Ichigo looks at her, brows raised, "You're not expecting me to use a melon-scented condom, are you?"

**45**

She gives him a sweet smile, eyes twinkling as she puts down her cards on the table, "I win, you lose – now _strip_."

**portrait**

Being away from her _too_ long impels him to touch himself while staring at her innocently, smiling picture.

**over**

"It's over," she says, strongly, convincingly but he knows it isn't, _whatever_ it is, it isn't over, thus he reaches out to take her hand and she, she does not pull away, she does not – she _can't, _and he knows it.

**family**

He has her honey eyes, her smile, and this boy – this spitting image of her always reminds him of sunshine, of hope, of guilt, guilt, _guilt – oh god, fucking damn me – _and that no matter how many times he tries to forget, to move on, the truth remains that this boy will grow up without a mother.

**ballad**

He thrusts and fills her, and she cries out his name, a pretty, pretty love song in his ears.

**love**

He watches her breathe deeply while his hand trace over her pale breasts, down her flat stomach and over her white thighs, her body spread out in surrender as he delves into her, searching and finding pleasure.


	62. a stain

**infection**

It's not coming off. It stays, it stains, it is red.

He scrubs and scrubs until the skin is red and raw. When he thought that he's already washed it off, another batch of bloodstains appears. Why, why don't they go away?

He scrubs harder. Grimmjow, Ulquiorra… Ishida… What if… What if he lost control again? Who's next?

"Kurosaki-kun?" he stiffens and panics. His heart races painfully.

What if she sees the blood in his hands? He scrubs harder. He jerks in surprise when she speaks and finds out she is standing next to him. "What are you doing?" she asks. He grunts as a reply. "Kurosaki-kun…"

"It's not coming off." He grunts.

Orihime blinks and looks down to his hands. She frowns, what is not coming off? There is nothing on his hands. "Kuro…"

"Goddamn it, get off, get the fuck off."

Orihime opens her mouth but Ichigo hisses,

"Blood… blood… damn it, don't look, Inoue…"

A wrinkle of sadness and understanding creases her forehead. "Kurosaki-kun…"

"Don't look!" Panic makes him voice thick. "There's so much blood. Damn it. _Don't look._"

Startling Ichigo and rendering him immobile, she hugs him from behind. "Stop, please." She whispers, "Please."

"No…" His breathing is short, ragged, and painful. "No… Don't touch me, Inoue. You'll get… I don't want to taint you. Stay away, don't—"

"No." She embraces him tighter, her hands curling into fists, crumpling his shirt. "Please, stop. Don't do this to yourself."

A moment of stillness passes, a quiet that is so calm, punctured by the flowing water from the faucet and Ichigo's heavy breathing.

"Kurosaki-kun," Despite the clothing barrier between the skin of his back and her mouth, Ichigo can feel her lips move as she says his name. One of her fists uncurls, moves up and rests upon his heart. It pumps harder, races faster.

"You," she says. In response, he feels his heart jerk under her small palm. "Are not a monster,"

Something inside him overflows.

He turns inside her embrace and almost roughly, he puts his arms around her shoulders, a large, wet hand cradling the back of her head.

"I'm sorry, Inoue…" He rasps, his throat is dry, his voice is hoarse as he clutches her auburn head. "I'm sorry."

"Kurosaki-kun…" Orihime puts her palms on his shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry… Damn it. I'm fucking sorry." As he speaks, his embrace tightens, his cheek resting against the side of her head. Long, flaming locks of hair slip through the gaps of his fingers; she smells nice, like spring, like hope and he hungers for it.

"I know." She says kindly, rubbing her palms on his back.

Ichigo hugs her so tight, as if trying to melt with her. Orihime feels her cheeks heat up; he is so close, Kurosaki-kun is so close. And his scent… She blushes harder. She clings to him tighter, taking advantage of the situation for this, she knows, will be the first and the last time she'll be this close to him.

"I'm so sorry. I'm a fucking monster."

"You're not."

"I am." He insists, his voice suddenly hard. "And you're not supposed to touch me." But his grip around her tightens. "I don't want to taint you." He whispers against her hair; his fingers curl frantically in her hair. "You're too… too… pure, too _fucking_ beautiful and—"

"Kurosaki-kun, you're not a monster. You saved me. You protected me. And you are… you are…"

Faster breathing, inhale, exhale; hearts beat faster.

"You are…" Orihime's voice is shaking; she is breathless. Unconsciously, she curls her hands into fists, clutching his shirt.

"I'm what?" He asks against her the hair on her temple. Ichigo slowly pulls his head away from her shoulder, cups her cheek and lifts her face to look into her eyes. She is blushing, her eyes are dark. In the semi-darkness of her small kitchen, their faces are closer now. He feels a pull, he is drawn to her and there is an urge to touch her fully, feel her, maybe…

He… he really wants to kiss her, but is it okay to be kissed by a monster, by a beast? Her response is a hand sliding up to clutch at his hair by the roots. A shiver convulses his spine when her blunt nails scrape his scalp. His grip tightens; hers too. His dark eyes watch her tongue trace and wet her lips. A knot tightens inside him. They draw closer, until…

The phone rings and she gasps, long lashes fluttering; Ichigo, however, does not let go, holding her still, unfazed by the sound. Her lashes lower, shielding her eyes, embarrassed. Ichigo leans down and his breath tickles her hot cheek.

"Inoue," she blushes. The ringing continues, shrill, a squeal for attention. She grips his shirt and hair tighter as her delicate throat moves.

"I… I… have to answer the phone." She stutters and knows she sounds lame.

Ichigo's lower lip curls in a smirk. "Yeah, you have to."

Neither moves.

"But I guess… you should let go of my hair first." He whispers.

Orihime gasps in mortification and she extends her fingers, letting go of orange strands and his shirt, with a squeak and an apology. He slowly releases her, Orihime tentatively steps back. He stares at her bowed head. Orihime slowly turns to leave but he grabs her arm, halting her movement. The girl stiffens, breathless. Oh heart, be still.

"Thanks, Inoue."

Startled, she turns her head to look over her shoulder. His lips are slightly curved in a very small smile; she could not see the expression of his eyes for he is standing against the light.

"We'll talk later." His voice drops in a low, scratching tone. "If you want,"

That makes her heart beat faster.

Smiling, she replies, "Y-Yes… I… I'd like that."

He nods. "Good." He lets go of her arm. "That's good."


	63. the cowgirl

**warning! **light M, nothing explicit, i think. XD

* * *

**gallery**

Ichigo slid the door open, face in default scowl. His eyes landed on a particular group of people. His scowl darkened.

"Oi," he thundered gruffly. "What the hell are you guys doing around my desk?"

The small group of people gathered around his desk lifted their heads and turned to look at him. Sado, as usual, was quietly appraising him; the corner of Ishida's mouth was twitching; Tatsuki looked like a swelling sabertooth tiger; Chizuru was mimicking Tatsuki's expression, only ten times worst; Rukia was not looking at him, but at a square strip of paper; Renji was grinning at him toothily; Kiego was drenching his desk with his tears; Mizuiro was multi-tasking, texting while watching Ichigo approach and the rest of Orihime's friends were gawking at him as if he was a devil incarnate. Obviously absent from the group was Orihime.

What was going on here?

With his every step, Tatsuki and Chizuru's expressions were getting darker and more ominous. A tic had developed all _over _Ishida's face. Ichigo frowned, what the hell did he do wrong this time? Can't people cut him some slack? He was a hardworking student and _full_ time substitute shinigami. He deserved some respect, didn't he?

"What's the big idea?" he grunted. He swung his bag down in an attempt to put it on his desk, but he stopped as his eye caught what was scattered across the wooden table.

Ichigo blinked.

"Pictures," He deadpanned. And then, his eyes slowly bulged. "Wha… WHAT THE HELL!" He slammed his bag down on his chair and grabbed some glossy photographs from the desk.

They were pictures of him – and _Orihime –_ kissing his girlfriend, of his mouth on hers, of him with his hand under her shirt, under her skirt and— _what the fuck! _– a picture of him pinning Orihime against the wall, his hand trapping her wrists above her head while he kissed her full on the mouth.

Ichigo shook like a leaf against a wind, his eyes widening even more as he frantically leafed through the photographs. The picture of him and Orihime kissing against a tree made his face burn. He distinctly remembered that that particular make out session led into something more.

_Oh shit. _

Ichigo faced his classmates. "Who the fuck took these pictures?" he hissed in a trembling voice.

They simply blinked obliviously at him. Ichigo was not amused.

"I said –"

"Wow, Ichigo, you're practically swapping saliva with Inoue here! Look!" Renji chirped, pointing at the picture he held in his hand.

"Shut up!" Ichigo hissed, grabbing the picture from the redhead's hand.

"What type of blackmail did you use on Inoue?" asked Rukia. Ichigo felt a vein stretch and snap in his temple.

"Who… damn it! Who took these pictures? I swear I'm going to rip his spine out!"

"H-H-How dare you taint my precious Hime! You…" Chizuru began in despair. "You… you orange haired ogre!" The girl cried out, waving her hands in the air hysterically. Ichigo felt his eye twitch. "I am so heartbroken! I have planned on taking away Hime's virginity and—"

Tatsuki snapped out of her trance and unceremoniously delivered a vicious spinning kick. "SHUT UP AND DIE!"

_Crack._

Ichigo frantically gathered the incriminating photos, mentally listing off the things he would do once he discovered who was behind this mess. "I am going to kill —"

"Wow, Kurosaki, I didn't know you had it in you!"

Ichigo froze.

"Ochi-sensei!" The group chorused.

The woman plucked a picture from the pile. "Impressive! So you can do things like these with your tongue? Is this what they call tongue-sex?"

The students gawked at the supposedly conservative teacher.

"Hmm, I thought you're asexual." Ochi-sensei eyed a particular picture with a clinical eye.

Ichigo twitched.

Ochi-sensei shrugged and tossed the photo back in the pile Ichigo had gathered in his hands. "Well, it is obvious Inoue enjoys being violated by you."

Horrified and horribly blushing, Ichigo stuttered. "I AM NOT VIOLATING HER."

She patted Ichigo on the shoulder, an attempt to calm the boy. "Congratulations, Kurosaki! You're not gay!" She paused, a specific photo catching her eye. She snatched it, stared at it and the grin on her face slowly widened. "Oh, look," She waved the picture in front of his face. "She likes cowgirl style, huh?"

Another tensed silence compressed, stretched and cracked (and Tatsuki was convulsing rather violently).

"Ohayo!"

Everyone turned to the door.

Orihime cocked her head to the side, blinking innocently at the stupefied gazes directed to her.

"Um… what did I miss?"


	64. electric

**itch**

"Oi, what's wrong?" Ichigo asks, frowning at Orihime who fidgets in her seat.

Orihime blinks and places her hands on her lap, stiffening her spine. "Nothing!" she chirps, smiling brightly. His frown deepens, his eyes narrowing. Orihime smiles sweetly, eyeing him innocently.

"Alright…" he shrugs and goes back to answering math problems. Two problems later, he looks up and finds Orihime squirming, reaching behind her, back arched which pushes her generous bosom forward. He stifles a groan, admonishing himself for _liking _the image of Inoue arching her back.

"Inoue,"

The girl's head snaps up in reply.

"What are you doing?" he looks at her face – with an effort not to let his gaze drop below her chin. She wears an uncomfortable and slightly aggravated expression. "What's wrong? You're…" He steals a quick glance to her chest, which later he swears an _accident, _"distracting me."

"Oh." Orihime slowly retracts her hand and smiles sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I –"

"I forgive you." She beams at him and the corner of his mouth lifts slightly to favor her with a slow, very small smile. "But can you tell me what's wrong with you?"

Her brows furrow in a small frown. "It's…" The frown deepens and she reaches behind her again. "It's itchy." She pouts her pink lips, her frown sharpening into a look of deep concentration. "But I can't reach. My fingers aren't long enough."

While she seethes gently, she changes the position of her arm, lifting it and reaching over her right shoulder. For a full minute, Ichigo watches her squirm, reach and twist with raised eyebrows. And then, he sighs sharply and drops his mechanical pencil.

"Fine," he stands up from his chair from the other side of Orihime's desk and walks around it to stand beside Orihime.

"Eh?" she is looking up to him, lips slightly parted.

He gestures with his hand. "Turn around," Orihime raises a brow. "Come on, face the other way."

She flushes shyly, finally understanding the sudden turn of event. "But…"

"It's alright. Come on," He takes both of her shoulders in his hands and gently nudges her to move. Shyly and hesitantly, Orihime shifts and faces the window, her back facing Ichigo. The boy drags another chair and sits down behind Orihime.

He touches her shoulder first so as not to startle her; he gathers her thick hair in one hand and drapes it over her shoulder before slowly moving his hand down.

"Is it here?" asks Ichigo, the tips of his fingers resting above the clasp of her bra.

"Um, lower, please, then to the right – oh, right there!"

He hears the girl sigh contently, her body relaxing as he starts to scratch. Several minutes later, he bends forward and whispers behind her ear. "Inoue," He feels her stiffen, and he knows without looking at her face that she is blushing. "Still itchy?" his fingers are tracing the border of the back strap her bra.

Orihime nods her head sharply. "H-Hai!"

His fingers stop. "Alright," He lowers his hand to the waistline of her skirt. Orihime looks over her shoulder. He stares right at her calmly.

"K-Kurosaki-kun…! What are y-you – !" She stops abruptly, eyes widening when he finally pulls the hem of her school blouse free from the waistband of her skirt. Her surprised gasp fills his ear when he touches the bare skin of her back.

"This is easier, right?" he is saying in an even tone, dark eyes looking right into her. Orihime quickly turns away with a squeak. Ichigo feels the corner of his mouth twitching in a small grin.

As for Orihime, she is hyperventilating in mixed surprise, delight and embarrassment. _K-Kurosaki-kun is touching… my b-back! _She squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip to contain herself. Despite their dating status, they have never tried to touch each other. Oh, there are small gestures like touching the small of her back and patting her head, touching her elbow when they cross the street and tapping her shoulder. All those touches are short and fleeting. In fact, the only part of her that he has touched the longest is the ends of her hair, and sometimes, the tips of her fingers.

"Inoue?"

She jumps. "H-h-hai?"

"What's wrong? You sound odd,"

_This is odd, _she thinks. "I'm fine!" She chirps quickly.

"So, is it here?"

"Umm…" She gulps shakily.

"Or here?"

Blushing furiously, she answers, "Um, h-higher, please,"

His fingers travel upwards and she swears her skin tingles. "…here?" He asks and in response, her toes curl and she balls her hands in small fists.

"Yes…" she says softly, eyes glazed over. His blunt nails gently scrape her soft skin, sending electrical current all over her body.

For Ichigo's part, he could not believe that he has a nerve to touch her like this. He asks her out a couple of months ago, but despite of the fact they are already open with their feelings for each other, he has never tried to cross the thin line of boundary between them. He respects her dearly, and most of all, he does not want Orihime to think that he is after physical intimacies. Though he is sure Orihime would not think lowly of him, he still worries he might scare her. Certainly, there are instances when his curiosity is piqued… after all; Orihime is beautiful, very beautiful. However, he would not let his curiosity ruin their relationship.

He raises a brow when he hears her sigh and slightly leans to his touch. He places his other hand on her shoulder and gently massages the muscles there. His scratching fingers slowly trace her spine and he feels her shiver, a small, very quiet moan escaping her lips.

His lower lip curls in a smile. He leans forward to whisper behind her ear, "Orihime."

The effect is instantaneous; Orihime straightens in her seat with a squeak. His smirk grows into a small grin.

"Still itchy?" he asks in a tone he hopes is neutral.

"N-No! It's o-o-okay! Thank you!"

He retracts his hand from under her shirt. Orihime glances shyly over her shoulder; Ichigo grabs the opportunity and kisses her cheek.

"You're welcome." Ichigo murmurs against her cheek before standing up and returning to his seat.


	65. the black cat with white boots

**chrome**

The clock on the wall says it is seven twenty. The ticking sounds are loud in the stillness of the square room. They echo, terribly so.

_Tick._ It is seven twenty one.

:

She is bending over a dining table. There is a cup of coffee on her right. It is probably cold now, muddy and tasteless, but every now and then, she would lift it up to her lips, she'd sip, a wrinkle would appear between her brows but she would continue to drink.

She is working on a thesis – something about nuclear reactors and biophysics stuffs. Her pen, a complimentary pen from a grocery store where she frequently shops for groceries, scratches the paper. She writes slowly, but the pen never stops. Words flow from her cerebral cortex to her spine, to her arm, her forearm, thin fingers and finally to the paper.

The room she has lived in for nearly three years since she started college in Tokyo is small, but clean, with chrome-colored walls and a window with a view of a train track. She has a stray black cat with white paws and curly-tipped tail as a pet; it comes every dinner and leaves after its meal, but tonight, for some strange reason, the cat has decided to stay and it is watching the girl, yawning every three seconds, its eyes half-lidded. After its twelfth yawn, the cat lowers its head on the floor and closes its eyes.

:

_Tick_. It is seven twenty five.

Her cell-phone rings.

:

She is startled, and the cat lifts its head, alert and grumpy. The cell-phone continues to ring, filling the silence, drowning out the sound of the ticking clock. With a dull thump, she set her pen on the table and reaches for the ringing device.

Carefully, she flips the top open.

:

"Tatsuki-chan,"

"Orihime,"

She glances at the clock. Seven twenty nine. "Hi," The cat springs up to her lap. She scratches it behind its ear; it meows softly, closes its eyes and lays its head on its front paws. "Is there something wrong?"

The reply is a quick, "Nothing,"

Her lips thin. There is a brief silence. The caller sighs.

"Alright," Her best friend says, "I have something I need to tell you."

Her fingers stop scratching the cat, and the cat, curious, lifts its head to look up to the girl.

"What is it?"

Another sigh, and then, "It's about…" A hesitant pause. "Ichigo."

She stiffens, honey eyes suddenly bright – glowing oceans of thoughts, of emotions, of memories. The cat could tell there is an earthquake inside this girl – or woman – how interesting. Her pulse is rapid, it vibrates, the cat feels.

It continues to watch and listen.

"What about him?" She speaks several moments later.

Tatsuki tells her.

:

The leaves in Karakura have turned golden red, and they scatter everywhere, almost concealing the concrete ground. The wind is cool; fortunately, she has foresight to wear a jacket, an old rose cashmere jacket with long sleeves which are long enough to conceal her small hands and thin, long fingers, but leave the nails exposed.

He is already there, standing with his strong shoulders hunched, big hands inside his pockets, his bright hair – thick, vivid, his usual haircut. He wears jeans – old jeans, she could tell – red Chuck Taylors and windbreaker.

She steps closer and the leaves crunch under her shoes. The sound breaks the silence. She sees him rotate his head slightly to the side in a listening gesture. She takes another step, another step, three… four… five, pauses at sixth, seven, eight until the distance becomes acceptable for a conversation.

But she does not know what to say. Five years, it is such a long time, isn't it? For her, it is. However, she perfectly knows what to do but she thinks it's too bold for her to throw her arms around him and smell his familiar, comforting scent. So, she keeps quiet, her arms remain immobile.

She hopes he'll speak first.

But first, he has to turn around and face her.

:

The ride from Tokyo to Karakura is unremarkable. The train is not full, but she insists on standing near the doors, holding on a metal pole. It is so shiny that she can see a tiny reflection of her cheek in it. Wide-eyed, she watches the scenery go by. She watches but in reality, she does not see the passing colors and shapes, the slopes and the curves. But she can hear the familiar _clack-clack _of the wheels. It comforts her, strangely.

There is an announcement, the train slows down and eventually stops. The electronic doors before her slide open.

People flow in, people flow out. An endless cycle. A sad, endless cycle.

The train moves again.

:

The dining room returns to its previous state after the phone call. The cat is now sleeping on her lap peacefully, the coffee colder, her thesis forgotten, and the pen stationary. She is staring at the chrome wall before her, and the chrome wall is staring back at her.

There is a distant sound of a train passing, momentarily disrupting the silence. The quietness returns, the sound of the clock ticking reigns once again, and the chrome walls keep staring at her.

They are mocking her, she thinks vaguely.

:

He must have heard or read her thoughts because he turns around and faces her. A smile automatically appears on her face. But she knows that he knows that while it is real – she is always honest, her smiles are always honest – it is also forced. How ironic.

He hasn't changed a bit. Oh, he is taller, his shoulders broader. He is more handsome now, but there is a certain tiredness etched on his features, making him look older, rougher. But he still has the same frightening intense eyes, strong nose, and wrinkles on his forehead. When he smiles slightly, his features change a bit. The hard lines soften, the wrinkles relax. She smiles in return, this time, more natural. It feels good to be smiled at.

"Hey,"

His voice, it is deeper now. Her reaction, however, is the same: she shivers, her heart responds.

She says, "Kurosaki-kun."

There is a look in his eyes, fleeting, and it is gone in a second. "You still call me Kurosaki-kun."

"It's a habit, I think." His gaze on her makes her heart tremble, like a twig about to be broken in halves by a cruel wind. So, she averts her gaze.

There is a moment of silence, punctured occasionally by birds flying off and of leaves scuffing the ground, dancing in the wind. There is a distant roar of a train passing. Then, there is silence, a complete, heavy silence.

She heaves a deep sigh, lifts her eyes and looks straight into his. Her heart, it flutters more, it pounds and it feels like it is expanding inside her ribcage, contracting, spreading out, and reforming before calming. He always has this weird and unbelievably strong influence on her heartbeat. Sometimes, she thinks it is pathological.

"I came to say goodbye." Sounds of chirping birds follow her statement. Then, another silence falls.

His look, it does not change. He does not even blink.

"I know." The words roll off his tongue. It is uncharacteristically soft, but everybody knows that he is softer to her, gentler. This knowledge comforts her when all she has are the black cat with white paws and the chrome walls.

"I heard," Her voice cracks a little; she continues. "I heard about your… promotion." She is not sure about the term, but she uses it anyway. He does not reply; his gaze becomes heavier, though.

"It's an order."

"It's… It's great, isn't it?"

The look changes a bit. The corners of his mouth harden. "Is it?"

No, it isn't. Being dead at twenty one is as sad as the winter rain, as sad as watching sunset while it rains. He has a family here, a father who needs someone to tackle, two sisters he'd like to see grow up, and friends he'd like to hang out with every now and then. His life is here. He has so many things he could do; he has so many chances, opportunities and choices.

_She_ is here.

But she does not voice these things. She is older now, but she, she is still a coward. But really, she is trying, oh she is trying.

"Well," She knows what to say but she does not know how to say them. "I… I don't know." She looks straight into his eyes.

He steps closer; she does not step away. There is a seven inch distance between them. He bends slightly so his mouth hovers before her ear.

"Stop me."

Honey brown eyes widen, flare and brighten.

"You, you can stop me."

:

The sliding doors leading to Soul Society appears several feet behind him. As usual, it opens with a chime, a dull thud, and flurry of black butterflies. Familiar faces appear: two captains, a vice captain, several foot soldiers.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," the shinigami captain's voice breaks the silence. "Please cooperate. We are instructed to use force if necessary."

:

"He's leaving. No, _they _are forcing him to go to whatever-it-is. They want him sequestered." Tatsuki is saying. "You have to go back here. Talk to him."

"Say goodbye, you mean." She says softly. The cat on her lap is now sitting up, looking up to the auburn-haired girl with its golden eyes.

Tatsuki sighs. "Orihime," She sounds tired, not exasperated, just really tired. "Yes. It would be a _goodbye_ if you do nothing."

She does not reply, Tatsuki continues.

"Do something. Say something. _Anything._"

:

"Run."

He frowns. Their heads turn to each other. Their gazes meet and lock. He is frowning visibly now, lips in straight line, jaw tensed, eyes dark as dark as the coffee she has sipped and abandoned two nights ago.

Blushing timidly but staring back at those brown eyes determinedly, she licks her lips; her heartbeat is a drum roll.

"Run away with me."

Time pauses for a second.

Then the corner of his lips curves in a slow, honest smile; even his eyes smile. Startling her, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her towards his chest. She blushes brightly, her skin suddenly hot. Their lips are few centimeters apart and they are so close that she feels like she is drowning in his scent.

"Hold on tight." He whispers against her trembling lips.

:

The door opens after three knocks.

It is Yuzu who opens the door. "Orihime-nee?"

"Hi, Yuzu-chan," She lowers the wicket basket on the ground and cradles the black cat with white paws and curly-tipped tail. "It is odd, but he does not like fish." She says after a few minutes, stroking the cat who gazes at her unblinkingly. "He eats fish cakes, though. But he prefers rice cakes, pickles and bread." She tickles the cat's chin, lifts it and hugs it in between her cheek and shoulder. "I'm going to miss you." She whispers very quietly. For five years, the black cat has been her sole companion. True, it appears only when it's hungry and leaves after gobbling his meal. But the cat, it is always there when she needs something tangible to touch and hold.

Yuzu is watching her.

"I'm sorry but I have to ask. Can you please look after him? Don't worry. He's… toilet-trained." She smiles gently. Slowly, Yuzu reaches for the cat; it frowns, sizing up the blonde girl with sharp, golden eyes. Yuzu stares back innocently, hands spread before her. Carefully, Yuzu stretches her hands forward, the tips of her fingers touching black fur. The cat does not complain. It lets Yuzu hold him against her chest.

"Thank you, Yuzu-chan. I'll…" The cat is staring at her knowingly. She bites her lips.

The cat does not like to be lied to, so she shakes her head and says, "Thank you, Yuzu-chan, for everything. There is a two months worth of food in the basket."

"Okay." Yuzu smiles, her small hand strokes the cat's head. "See you in two months."

The cat meows.

:

It is goodbye.

:

"Let's go."

And they run.


	66. usted es la fuente de mi ser

**morning**

He likes watching her.

When she moves, she is like a moving painting – a Titian, maybe. It is comforting, watching her, the familiar flail of her arms, the swirl of autumn hair, the noise of her laughter, her strange but insightful analogies.

But when she sleeps, it is when he watches her with rapt attention. She sleeps deeply, an unmoving statue of porcelain skin and rosy lips. When she sleeps, she looks dead – beautiful _and_ dead.

The first few times he sees her like that have made him anxious. But gradually, his anxiety is replaced by wonder. This might sound odd, very bizarre – morbid even, but she, she is in her loveliest when she sleeps like _that, _like she is dead.

He is watching her now; she is on her stomach. Lovely, naked and tangled with him under the blankets, her face is turned towards him, auburn hair scattered across her naked back, small shoulders, all over the pillows like a many-branched river.

He reaches for a lock of hair, twirls it around his finger, and rolls the flaming strands between his index and thumb. His fingertip traces her delicate spine, and he thinks how easy it is to break her.

Outside, the sun peeks shyly over the thick clouds, poking a few rays of light. The day is full of promise of long summer and heat.

He hears her sigh deeply, and her whole body seems to come alive. She is slowly waking up, just like the rest of the world. His eyes flicker over the alarm clock on the bedside table. It shows the time and the date. His gaze goes back to her face. Without opening her eyes, she whispers, "Good morning."

He leans forward and brushes his lips against her temple, his hand on her hair. She smiles and curls closer to him under the blankets.

"Do you like this?" she asks suddenly.

"This?"

"Waking up in the morning together," she elaborates slowly, softly.

His hand moves and rests between her shoulder blades. Her skin is soft, a sharp contrast to the thick calluses of his hand. Quietly, eyes half-lidded, he watches his hand on her pale skin. It is still strange, touching her. Though the feelings induce by their touching skins are already familiar, he could still severely feel the weight, the swirl of emotions, the way his heart pound, contract and relax whenever he touches her.

He tangles his fingers in her hair. After which, he puts his arm around her, his hand resting on the gentle curve between her waist and hip.

"As long as you're not drooling on my face," he replies.

A muscle twitches under the skin of her cheek and she giggles. "And they say Ichigo-kun has no sense of humor," Her eyelids lift to reveal smiling honey-colored eyes.

"It's true," he grumbles. "I don't have sense of humor."

"Hmm," She murmurs, "with your face, you don't need sense of humor." She grins playfully.

He raises a brow at her and says gruffly, "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

Still smiling, she tells him. "I like the way your nostrils flare when you growl like that."

The corner of his mouth twitches in a shadow of a smile.

"But you know…" She closes her eyes again with a content smile, dark, thick lashes against pale cheeks. "I like it. I like… waking up in the morning like this."

His hand moves up to cup her nape under her thick hair.

"You're so warm. It reminds me of kayu my brother used to cook for me every morning when I was in kindergarten." She pauses to exhale, her lips slightly parted. When she speaks again, it is softer, and her words are slower, flowing. "Every time I wake up and I see your face, I remember good memories, even the bad memories and how you, you made everything okay."

He responds by folding himself closer to her, tangling his long, rough fingers in her hair. She, in turn, says, "I love you, Ichigo," her voice becomes increasingly quiet, "I'm sorry… I know you're not fond of sentimental things… But I just feel the need to say it…" She yawns.

He pulls her closer to his body. "Sometimes, I need to hear it, to make sure this is real,"

She smiles sleepily, "I'm glad…"

Outside, in the center of the ocean of blue skies, white clouds, and racing kites and pigeons, the sun rises fully.


	67. love story, maybe

**movie**

It feels like he is in a movie.

And he, he is one of the extra characters, made to stand in the background, watch the main pair go by, exchange words, brush fingertips, create a once-upon-a-time, many in-betweens, and hopefully, a happily-ever-after.

The role never bothers him. It does not matter, it never does, but one day, sunny and spring breeze around, something has happened – he does not remember what transpired, oh, maybe she laughs and smiles at him and the world stops? – and he thinks while watching the dust swirl around his feet, _what am I doing? _And he realizes _I'm not going to settle for second best. I am going to be the best._

That is what he tells to himself.

Ever since, he starts to work harder. I deserved her, he tells himself while laughter and summer heat mix around him. It is too hot thus he decides to stay under the shade of a random tree while his classmates play in the field.

_I deserved her _because he is good person – he strives to be better everyday – and he is _better_, academically speaking. He understands her; they are in the same club; he is a student body president; he has never brought danger to her. When they are together, the world feels normal. With him, she is safer. He can protect her, and he _will _protect her.

"Good morning, Ishida-kun!" she smiles as she greets him.

He raises a hand in a simple, wordless greeting. Behind him, the door slides open.

"Oh! Good morning, Kurosaki-kun!"

"Yo, Inoue,"

Her smile is brighter, she looks happier – he observes.

But still, he pretends, Ishida tells himself – _I'm better than him._

:

Everyone likes her. Everyone but _Kurosaki_ (but who knows? no one knows, really, and that is, sometimes frustrating because he does not know _what _he thinks and does aside from he sells his prowess to different clubs to earn money)

He likes her, and he knows, she is the _one _– or whatever it is people call their special person.

:

Despite his aloof façade, Ishida knows his friends well and can read their feelings fairly accurately. Inoue's are the easiest because she's honest and true. He is aware of what she feels for Kurosaki – knows it for long and he knows those feelings are strong. But feelings change especially if they are unreciprocated – and Kurosaki, he does not show any interest, any special feelings towards the girl or to anyone for that matter. One day, for sure, Inoue will get tired of waiting, Inoue will get tired of trying, Inoue will notice him, Inoue will appreciate him, Inoue will have a change of heart, Inoue will–

"Hey, Inoue,"

"Yes?"

"Tatsuki has Karate practice, hasn't she?"

"Un!"

"Right. I'll walk you home."

"E-Eh? K-Kurosaki-kun…"

"Is there something wrong? Crap – I'm sorry. I mean, can I walk you home? If it's alright,"

"O-Oh, of course, i-it's alright! T-Thank you!"

"Don't mention it. Come on. You don't want to miss those crazy shows you like, do you?"

Ishida watches them walk away – watches their back, their fingers that barely brush each others'; Inoue talks, she laughs, and Kurosaki listens to her laughter, to her stories. They are gone, has disappeared in a corner but he still stands there. The hallway is quiet and he remembers – _Kurosaki-kun, help!_

(he tries, very hard, to forget that one defining moment when he could not protect and help her with one hand, one arm, his body, his powers – no matter how hard he tried, it was not enough – _he _was not enough,

_Kurosaki-kun… Kurosaki-kun… Kurosaki-kun!_

while Kurosaki – dead and gone – rose from the dead and became something else, someone else to

_You…_

_I'll save you. I'll save you._

and Ishida watched the world bleed._)_

:

The room is quiet and she is humming softly while she sews. She sits on a desk next to a window; the light coming from the sunset engulfs her in an ethereal russet halo. And at that moment, he decides that she is lovely and he wants one lifetime with her.

"Inoue,"

Inoue starts and turns her head towards the door. Kurosaki is standing there.

"Kurosaki-kun!" She says brightly, her whole face lights up and she waves a hand happily.

Ishida feels ill.

Then, Kurosaki nods as a greeting. "Oi, Ishida."

"Kurosaki," he returns. Kurosaki smirks and looks at Inoue again.

"Ready to go?"

Inoue smiles, "Yes." Kurosaki waits patiently as Inoue gathers her things. "Bye-bye, Ishida-kun! See you tomorrow!"

He nods, and watches Kurosaki reach for Inoue's hand. Their fingers touch, Inoue smiles and Kurosaki's scowl melts away.

There is a distant sound of something splintering – which he ignores.

Ishida looks away, and watches the sunset. Everything fades away except for the room and the desk where she has sat.

:

Keigo is talking and Mizuiro is not replying, busy with his cell phone, as usual. Sado is quiet, Kurosaki eats his lunch.

"You're more odd than usual." Kurosaki says all of a sudden without looking at him.

He does not reply.

"Oi! I'm talking to you!"

Sado looks up and glances at Kurosaki and Ishida. Kurosaki is glaring at Ishida while the latter ignores the orange-haired boy.

"What is your problem," grunts Kurosaki, looking aggravated. Keigo stops his blabbering and Mizuiro looks up from his phone. A long silence stretches. Then, Ishida packs up and leaves the rooftop.

Kurosaki looks at Sado.

"What the hell was that?"

:

One more time. One more act.

:

The cherry blossoms are in bloom. Looking at them, Ishida feels optimistic.

His fellow graduates congratulate him – _nice speech, president! Congrats, top one student! Good luck! Have fun in Tokyo U!_

"It was a good speech, Ishida-kun!" says Inoue. The corner of his mouth lifts in a small, grateful smile. Her long hair dances in the wind around her, behind her. "Good luck in Tokyo University. I'm sure you'll be fine." She adds.

"Thank you. Where are you going for college?"

"I was accepted in Kyoto University."

He blinks and says carefully, "Same with… Kurosaki,"

Inoue blushes, smiling. "Yes. We… We decided to go to the same university."

He swallows. "I see."

Inoue nods, still smiling. "I have to go, Ishida-kun! Tatsuki-chan is probably looking for me." Inoue turns to go but he takes her wrist, halting her departure.

"Please wait."

Inoue pauses for a moment, looking at him curiously. "Ishida-kun—"

"Inoue," a familiar voice interrupts. They both look in the direction of that voice.

"Kurosaki-kun…"

Kurosaki smiles a little at Inoue. His face softens a little, but his scowl remains. "I was looking for you." And then, his gaze lingers on the hand holding her wrist. Inoue carefully takes her hand. Kurosaki slowly turns to Inoue. "Tatsuki is waiting for you." He says.

"Y-Yes…" Inoue glances over at Ishida. "Congratulations again, Ishida-kun. Please keep in touch, okay? Kurosaki-kun gave me a cell phone for my birthday last year and he taught me how to use it." She looks up to the orange-haired boy. "Let's go, Kurosaki-kun?"

Kurosaki nods and offers her his hand. She takes it, and Ishida, he feels sick, so _ill_. He turns around without a word.

"Ishida-kun, is there something wrong?"

_Everything, _he wants to say but chooses to stay quiet and stares at the blooming cherry trees.

"Oi, you okay?" Kurosaki's voice. He can picture him frowning. "Ishida—"

"I'm fine." He says and starts to walk away.

:

It feels like he is in a movie.

And he, he is one of the extra characters, made to stand in the background, watch the main pair go by, exchange words, brush fingertips, create a once-upon-a-time, many in-betweens, and hopefully, a happily-ever-after.

The scene blurs, the colors turn into sepia, and a voice says,

"You may kiss the bride."

He closes his eyes, everything turns black and the credits roll.


	68. beauty and the beast

**intuition**

His stiff announcement meets disbelief, horror and— "You've got to be shitting me."

"Karin-chan!" Yuzu scolds. Karin, however, ignores her, looking at her brother with something akin to awe.

"You! Watch your language!" Ichigo snaps, flustered and irritated at the reactions.

"But it's _Orihime._" Karin points out.

"What is that supposed to mean!" Ichigo demands indignantly.

"Well, it's _Orihime._"

"And?"

"…And you're _Ichigo._"

A vein throbs visibly above his eye.

Karin continues to elaborate. "It's like Beauty and the Beast." Her eyebrows make a straight line above her heavy-lidded eyes.

_Snap._ Ichigo opens his mouth but Isshin lets out a whoop. "Masaki-chaaaaaan, our boy is not gay! Our boy is not gay!" In the background, Isshin slams himself towards the life-size portrait of his deceased wife.

"Damn it! Stop overreacting!" Ichigo yells at his spinning father; he knows something similar to this will happen. And it does _happen_.

"So!" Isshin spins around like a tornado and abruptly stops. Ichigo steps back suspiciously at his father's gleeful face. Isshin gives a shining smile and holds out a palm. "My darling daughter," he begins in a booming voice. "Karin-chan, do not be comforted for Daddy's power of recall is made of epic win!" At this Karin twitches. Ichigo frowns, curious at this development.

"Crap." Karin grunts, disgruntled as she shoves a hand inside the front pocket of her loose shorts. Ichigo and Yuzu watch, wide-eyed. With a roll of her eyes, Karin tosses several coins towards their father. Isshin gives a whoop and 'Yes! I have money! I am handsome and I am rich!'

Ichigo's jaw drops. "Wait… Don't tell me… you guys… WHAT THE HELL! YOU PLACED BETS ON MY SEXUALITY?" Veins throb and explode in his temples.

"And who would have thought that goat-chin's intuition is correct?" Karin snaps, completely ignoring the seething temper of her brother. (Onii-chan, calm down! Calm down!) "My female intuition is supposed to be the _best._"

Ichigo is undergoing spastic twitching ("ONII-CHAN! ONII-CHAN, INHALE! EXHALE!").

"But kudos Ichi-nii." Thumb's up. "Great rack, great catch."


	69. red

**fake**

"I think you should stop this."

He keeps quiet, staring blankly at nothing in particular. However, he sees her, auburn hair and honey eyes, pretty and gentle, that lovely face and lovelier smile.

"Kurosaki-kun, this is not healthy."

He swallows and closes his eyes.

"Please." His voice is rough due to prolonged disuse. "Stay with me."

He hates how clingy he sounds.

:

"Ichigo," It is Sado. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"But…"

"I'm _fine._ Stop asking. You'll worry Inoue."

Sado's eyes widen but he does not speak.

"She…" A look flits over Ichigo's face. His mask is breaking but in a second, the cracks disappear. "She'll worry. I don't want her to worry about me."

Sado fades away in the background while Ichigo wastes away in reality — _his _reality where…

"Ne, Kurosaki-kun, you don't talk to your friends like that…"

"Right," he smiles faintly. "Sorry, Inoue."

:

"Stop this, Ichigo." This time, it's Rukia. From a corner, Renji watches quietly, uncomfortable. This scene makes him weak. Watching Ichigo makes him sick.

How the mighty have fallen.

"…Let her go."

Her voice cracks, but her back remains straight.

"You _have _to let her go."

Ichigo looks at her and Rukia feels sicker. Renji guides her out of the room.

"Mou, I think it's a little rude to ignore your friends like that. Be nice."

Ichigo closes his eyes and listens. He pretends that she lean her head against his shoulder.

"I'll try my best."

:

"It's such a nice day~" she says, smiling as bright as the sun, as real as his reality. "You have to go out more, you know."

From his bed where he sits, Ichigo smiles at her, a faint lift of the corner of his mouth. She still calls him Kurosaki-kun. Catching his faint smile, she grins happily. That smile wounds him so, for it looks painfully _real_.

She spins once, and she is graceful. He watches her flaming hair twirl around her like a cape. She is… beautiful that it makes his eyes burn.

A worried frown creases her forehead. "Why do you look so sad…?"

He only stares at her.

She smiles tenderly. "You have to stop doing this to yourself, Kurosaki-kun." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

"No." He says more to himself. "You promised, Orihime."

She blinks her bright eyes. And then, she smiles. She seems happy because he calls her by her given name.

"Okay…" Her smile widens. "If this will make you happy—"

"_I _am happy." He stresses, again, more to himself.

She looks at him for a little while, a gentle and understanding appraisal. "You don't look happy." She says quietly. "You look…"

He closes his eyes, masking the pain to keep his sanity intact, because it's so painfulto live in _this _prolonged state of reality.

Pain makes people desperate.

And desperation leads to insanity. And… she is speaking.

"Kurosaki-kun… You," she pauses and he opens his eyes. Her eyes are watering. "You _really_ have to stop doing this."

He looks at her; their eyes lock. Her tears thicken, making her eyes brighter.

"Don't look at me like that, Kurosaki-kun…" Her kind eyes, gentle eyes, bright eyes, they are so alive, _oh god_, they are so alive and she…

"You have to let me go."

"No." He groans, suddenly breathless. His chest aches. He raises a hand to clutch at his chest. "No, no, _no…_" He starts to tremble, digging his fingers onto his chest. He wants to tear his heart out… but monsters… do monsters posses a heart?

"I can't." His fist curls and trembles. "I _can't._"

He feels (_it is real! she is real! _he screams days later) her hand touch his hair and he hungrily grasps at the feeling, fake or not, real or not, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Just her and his reality. Just her and his fake paradise.

"Oh Kurosaki-kun," she speaks as though she is talking to a child. He _is _a child trapped in a man's body.

Slowly, like a waterfall which waters do not touch the ground, she sits on her ankles, looking up to him. Their eyes meet and lock. He could not bear it for her eyes look like fire, burning, alive. So, he closes his eyes.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

His eyes fly open.

She is smiling while tears make tracks over her cheeks.

"Why do you torture yourself?" Tears continue to fall, but they do not seem to leave her cheeks. Ichigo wants to catch them, feel them on his palms, a touch of paradise, a touch of _her. _"I'm not worth it, Kurosaki-kun."

She reaches out a hand to touch his face, her fingers stopping in midair, a fingerbreadth away from his cheek.

"You have to let me go…"

"I can't—"

"I'm," she pauses, the air stills. "I'm dead."

:

Everything becomes black and white.

He rocks back and forth, back and forth. Everything seems to fade, including her. Where's my reality, he demands. Bring it back, bring it back, bring

_her back._

"…and no amount of imagination will bring me back."

Ichigo trembles.

It is suffocating. He cannot breathe. The words echo inside his head. He tries to block the sounds. He clenches his face with his hands. He opens his mouth to scream – _it hurts, it hurts, stop –_

"…it's time to wake up."

Brown eyes snap open.

:

He breathes deeply. He does not flinch when he feels a hand caressed his hair. He lay there, pretending he is dead.

"…you really like this, don't you?"

He keeps staring up to the ceiling.

"Isn't this self-torture enough, Kurosaki-kun?" He knows she is next to him, face turned toward his. "For how long will you hurt yourself by imagining me?" There is a sigh. "You're wasting away, Kurosaki-kun."

"Then, let me die."

She is now sitting on his bed, looking down at him. Her long hair is all over her shoulders.

"Why won't you let me die?" he asks, he is almost begging, hungry.

Her eyes are big, windows to his paradise. He lifts a hand to touch her face and steal a touch of heaven. Please, just one touch, just one, please, _please, _but life is cruel.

His hand meets air.

"…like the way I killed you."

She sighs and looks at him lovingly. "You didn't kill me. I died, because … because that's what happened."

"I wanted to protect you, I wanted to protect you so much, but I… I," What is this pain? This feels like his skin is being peeled off his bones. The pain is everywhere. He becomes the pain himself. Is this how a heart breaks?

But he can't cry.

Monsters don't cry, do they?

"I killed you… I _let _you die. In my arms, you kept bleeding. It hurts so much, it hurts but I can't… I can't even cry. I can't—"

She leans down; they are face to face; they are nose to nose. Her big eyes seem to engulf him and crush his lungs. It tortures him so.

"Let me go."

He is breathless; the air can't enter his lungs.

"Please… Let me go, Kurosaki-kun. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want to be here with you because I'm hurting you just by being here and…"

He kisses her, clutching her hair. It tastes nothing.

"I love you, you know, for a long time." She whispers. It is the truth, and it pains him even more.

"I… I…"

She smiles. "Please don't lie and say you love me as well." Her eyelashes lower, shielding her eyes. Slowly, she sits back.

"You will only hurt yourself more."

She vanishes.

:

They found him three days later, naked in a tub filled with water, slightly pink from blood. He is staring at a corner blankly. He is pale as paper.

Yuzu is crying, screaming _Onii-chan! Onii-chan! Daddy! Karin-chan!_

She watches from a corner.

He sees her. He sees nothing but her. Everything has faded but her.

"Don't…"

Yuzu looks up to him, her eyes filled with tears. Karin and Isshin arrive.

_Ichi-nii!_

_Ichigo!_

"Don't…"

_Oh god… K-Karin-chan, Onii-chan, _Yuzu shakes and Karin looks horrified, _he slits his wrists! What is going on, Karin-chan? !_

"…cry."

Yuzu stares at his pallid brother. She opens her mouth to respond.

…

…

…"Orihime."

:

Yuzu shakes her head, her face stained with tears. "No… Daddy! Don't do this to Onii-chan! Let him stay! I'll take care of him!"

"Yuzu…"

"Karin-chan, you would not let them take Onii-chan away, right?"

Karin looks away. "He needs help."

"He needs _us._"

Karin clenches her fists.

"No, he doesn't."

:

She is sitting on a corner, tracing a circle on the floor with her finger. "If this continues… They might send you away."

He is sitting on his bed. Bandages cover his wrists.

"Kurosaki-kun…" She looks up. He is looking at her from across the room. Their eyes meet and lock. "You have to forget about me." Her image starts to deteriorate. "Move on. Live your life. Don't let me ruin your life, Kurosaki-kun. I'm just a memory. You _can_ bury me, erase me, replaced me with a new memory." She stands up, her long hair flowing down her chest.

"Please, Kurosaki-kun –"

"I love you." He says in a clear, strong voice.

She blinks but her expression does not change. Ichigo blinks and when he opens his eyes, the corner is empty.

:

A voice whispers behind his ear.

…

…

…

"You're too late."

Everything becomes black and white.

:

A hand comes down hard on his neck.

Ichigo's eyes fly wide open.

"Wake up," A cold smirk, a curl of brown hair in front of a pale, smirking face, "Kurosaki Ichigo."

"…!"

"And watch." Aizen tosses him to the ground. Ichigo looks around and his eyes land on a familiar figure of a girl. She has her back to him, her long hair swaying behind her as she walks away. He reaches out a hand.

"Inoue, _stop—"_

"Shoot to kill."

The silver blade, it comes out of nowhere.

"Shinsho."

His vision becomes red. Bloody, bloody, liquid… red…

:

And Ichigo screams.


	70. ever after

**chase**

The war, it never ends, thinks Ichigo.

He closes his eyes and breathes; the feel of Zangetsu in his hand is rough, dry and familiar, comforting. His grip never wavers – it remains tight, painfully. Sometimes, Orihime would touch his knuckles and his fingers would relax, but not for long. He feels like a tightly wound spring, ready to defend, ready to attack if necessary.

He opens his eyes and narrows them, looking around discreetly. It is quiet, the breeze is chilly, and the darkness cloaks their small sanctuary, but this haven is not safe, he knows. Sooner or later, they will be found. They have to leave soon – maybe in five minutes. He can wait for five minutes— Orihime needs her rest. If he could not give her peace, then he'd give her a five minute rest. It is enough.

Somewhere, a twig snaps in halves – Ichigo stiffens and grabs Orihime's hand. Instantly, the girl wakes, stiff and quiet. Without a word, she shifts in her spot and places a hand on the forearm attached to the hand gripping hers. She gives him a squeeze.

He looks at her, and sees her wide eyes. For a moment, he is distracted. A small movement in the air, a slight disturbance in stillness jolts him and he curses quietly.

_Shit._

He drops her hand and wraps his arm around her waist. He hoists her up and jerks her up to his hard chest. Without warning her, he flash-steps and in one second, they are gone.

;

It is like living inside a nightmare, Orihime thinks one day while she heals Ishida. His right forearm is cleanly cut off from his elbow. Ichimaru Gin has an accurate aim.

The nightmare continues and she thinks it will never end. They are trapped in a world of decay where swords continue to swing and clash, blood rains, flesh rots and friends die while foes live.

"Orihime,"

;

She would always remember the day when Ichigo first calls her by her given name. She is grieving before Rukia's body when he places a hand on her shaking shoulder and tells her they have to leave.

"B-But… Kuchiki-s-san," she stammers tearfully; she does not want to leave Rukia like this, bleeding and dying by increments. She has to try, and try, _and try and _—

"We don't have much time." He looks at Rukia briefly, eyes squinting, and the female shinigami nods quickly. Rukia could no longer speak; her vocal chords are crushed and her mouth is stuffed with blood. However, her eyes speak strongly – _go, now. Take her away. Away from here._

But Orihime shakes her head and grips Rukia's hand tightly. "No. I _can _heal her – I _can_ – P-Please, let me… I can _do it_. Just give me—"

An explosion interrupts her speech. They look up – a giant explosion in a form of a cross towers over them. A high-pitched screech follows that chills their blood, and a giant hand with clawed fingers tears through the sky. Orihime screams when the giant hand grabs the earth, causing an earthquake. The sky has crashed into the earth.

The ground shakes and breaks, gaps appear and they swallow corpses and dilapidated buildings. Ignoring her cry of protest, Ichigo takes her in his arms and leaps to avoid the crack that would have engulfed them.

Orihime's eyes widen, "N-No! K-Kuchiki-san!" The crack widens and swallows Rukia.

From the distance, perched on a torn building, they watch the earth bleed and Orihime weeps against his chest.

;

"Orihime,"

A hand touches her shoulder.

"We have to go."

They will leave Ishida. He has better chances of surviving without them.

Ichigo reaches down between them and takes Orihime's hand. She is trembling and chilly. With her other hand, she grasps his forearm.

"We should go." She whispers, her eyes fixed on Ishida's sleeping form. "Before he wakes up… It's easier to leave when they're not awake."

He nods and squeezes her hand. Slowly, she faces him and smiles.

"It's going to be alright." He says quietly.

They would never know if Ishida survives – or dies.

They'll grieve anyway. They grieve everyday.

;

"Do you wonder how long we are going to live?" she asks him. The night in battle-torn Karakura is chilly and the stars are scattered across the sky. Ichigo looks at her from the rock where he sits. She is lying on her back, staring up to the sky with wide eyes. She is wearing her school long sleeve shirt and pleated skirt. They look worn, but clean. She washes them and hangs them dry every time they come across a lake.

Orihime closes her eyes.

"Sometimes, I think we're in a dream."

Ichigo narrows his eyes.

"I want to wake up." She continues. "And never fall asleep again," She opens her eyes and sits up, looking at him from across the clearing. Two yards separate them. Their eyes meet and the distance seems to diminish. She smiles – it is the same smile she wears when everything used to be a simple black-and-white, not red and black. Ichigo watches her quietly, waiting for her to continue.

"I don't know what will happen tomorrow – or later. So I want you to know that—"

"We _are _going to survive." He interrupts. She blinks; Ichigo sighs. "I promise, Orihime, we are going to get through this." Even though he does not know how, he still promises her.

A crease appears on her forehead. She bites her lip and drops her gaze.

"There are…" She grips her skirt and sighs shakily.

Ichigo looks down at Zangetsu. "Even if there are only the two of us left, we can do it. We have to."

;

They found Sado two days later.

The door opens and Orihime steps out of the room. Ichigo is sitting on a rocking chair, staring at the wall, its paint peeled off. Gently, she touches his shoulder then her fingers slide down to his arm, finally resting on his large hand. Almost instantly, he turns his palm up and grasps her hand in his, gripping it tightly.

"He's fine." She tells him softly. "I healed him. It took me a lot of time but it was worth it. The reiatsu surrounding him was… It was thick with evil – I needed more time to reject his wounds. But he's fine now."

He nods. He fights the urge to close his eyes when she brushes his hair off his face with her free hand. Her fingers comb through his hair, soothing him, reminding him of sunsets and sunrises in Karakura, of waking up in the morning in his bed, of his sisters, of his father, of his friends, of her smiles.

"Do you want to see him now?" she asks. Ichigo turns his face towards her. Orihime smiles at him and kisses his temple. "He's alright… He's alright…" She whispers over and over and over again.

Ichigo closes his eyes this time. He knows Orihime is trying to convince herself, is trying to forget Rukia and Renji who already both perished before their eyes, and Ishida who they abandoned.

"We're going to find Tatsuki." He promises, not looking at her. It is easier to make a promise to her when he is not looking at her face. "She's tough. I'm sure she is –" he wanted to say alive but instead he says, "—fine."

He wishes she is, desperately, for Orihime's sake.

;

"You're not coming with us."

Sado does not reply.

"You will stay here."

"Ichigo—" Sado begins but Ichigo shakes his head.

"I'm glad you're alive. But if you come with us," A heavy pause, "Look, just stay here. We only made sure you're alive and safe, that's all. We're not going to bring you with us." With that, Ichigo leaves the room. Orihime tries to smile at Sado.

"I-I'm sorry, Sado-kun." She says quietly. "We… Kurosaki-kun just wants to protect you. We… We are _his _targets. If you come along with us – you will be in danger and… And…"

"Orihime, let's go," Ichigo's voice.

"Y-Yes, I'm coming." She turns back to Sado. "I'm sorry. But we can't afford to lose another important person. I'm sorry—"

"Orihime,"

"Good bye,"

Orihime steps out of the room. Ichigo offers her his hand which she takes.

"Let's go." Ichigo murmurs.

Orihime nods.

Sado steps out. Ichigo and Orihime glance at him over their shoulders. Frowning, Ichigo turns to Sado.

"Shoot to kill,"

Ichigo's eyes widen. A glint momentarily blinds him. For a moment, everything seems to slow down; everything seems too clear, too bright.

A long blade pierces Sado's neck. It enters his neck from below his ear, protruding from the other side of his head.

"NO!" screams Orihime.

Once again, the sky crashes down to earth.

;

Orihime cries for days.

She does not speak, does not eat. All she does is cry. Ichigo tries to encourage her to eat but she only shakes her head and continues to cry, curled up in a pitiful ball of dull sunshine and too-painful grief. Ichigo lets her and watches over her. They haven't slept ever since Sado was killed; their paranoia and grief keep them awake.

When she finally stops crying, she turns to him. He feels her stare and looks at her. Her face is pale as paper, her eyes swollen and red. Seeing her like this, so fragile, heartbroken, hopeless and still beautiful with grief and fear, it makes him weak, but he swallows, tries to smile and offers her his hand. Tears fill her eyes once more and she embraces him and continues to cry.

"It's going to be alright." He whispers against her hair, holding her tightly against his chest. She is clinging to him, and he lets her cry for as long as she wants while keeping a tight hold on Zangetsu.

He buries his face in her hair, hoping her scent will dull his pain.

;

They would stop looking for their friends. This is what they have decided. It pains Orihime to think she would never see Tatsuki ever again, but they will not risk it. Ichigo tries to comfort her, but she smiles at him and squeezes his hand.

"It's alright," she tells him. "I understand. It's better this way…" Orihime wraps her arms around his midsection. "I know… You want to see your sisters and father as well." She says quietly, and feels him tense. "I understand how you feel."

He places a hand on the small of her back.

"We have to stay away from our loved ones in order to protect them. No matter how much we wanted to see them and make sure they're alright, we… just can't go and see them."

"I'm sorry."

She pulls away and looks up to him. "Don't apologize. This is not your fault, Ichigo. Please…"

He smirks a little. "Okay." He leans down but pauses when their lips are scant millimeter away from each others. He is looking deeply into her eyes. She smiles gently and leans up to press her lips against his. Their eyelids slowly drop close.

"I will protect you." He vows against her damp, full lips. "Nothing will separate us. No matter what happens, I will make sure we stay together. I will protect you and all you have to do is to be happy with me. I know it's difficult but… as long as you're here with me, I'll be alright."

A tear slides down her cheek from her closed right eyelid. She brushes her cheek against his, smiling.

"Thank you." She whispers softly, running a hand over his hair. "I feel the same way. As long as we're together, I'll be alright. I'll protect you as well, in my own way."

;

Under the full moon and starless sky, he touches and cradles her bare body. Beautifully, she stretches out before him, an act of surrender, offering herself, and he takes what she gives. He is hungry and desperate for what is before him.

He watches her eyes, wide with wonder and full with tender emotions; he fills her, and as he does, he watches her, pink mouth open in a silent scream, in silent chants of his name, and _I love you_ and _don't stop. _Words, colors, shapes, time – all of them are a blur. He is unable to grasp the reality – everything is chaotic, a pandemonium of noise, colors, scents. But one thing is sure, is clear and certain: at that one precious moment, everything is her and she is everything.

;

Tonight, they touch and love to forget the world, the tears, blood and death. They pretend to forget that tomorrow is another tragedy waiting to happen.

Their skins are warm and damp, moving against each other. She buries a hand in his hair, digging her nails and scraping his scalp. She watches his face, the clench of his jaw, the burning of his amber eyes. He is beautiful, she thinks, and he is her entirety.

;

She is looking at him, honey eyes glowing in the dark, swollen lips slightly parted, her hair disheveled. She is spread out before him, body, soul and heart, and he tells himself, it's okay, it's okay.

He bends down and kisses her gently. She is so precious, so warm.

_I have you, and it is enough._

… Even though the world is ending – or has ended already – and they are running away, death is chasing after them, claws ready to snatch them, tear them, break them.

_I have you, and it is enough._

… Even though, each day, every day is a funeral for a friend.

_I have you, and it is enough._

They run, and they never look back.


	71. a good night

**transparent**

Sometimes he sees him, sometimes he doesn't. He feels his presence, sometimes he doesn't. But he knows it's him, still watching.

He knows _he's there._

"I know you're worried. I know you're still here. Somewhere." He says one night when his presence is the strongest. Orihime is sleeping and before he leaves the bed, he makes sure her sleep is undisturbed. He tucks a random stuffed toy in her arms before he goes outside and sits on a step of the stairs leading to her apartment.

"But you know, you don't have to worry. I know you don't like me, but I like your sister—" He coughs a little at this. "I… Anyway, she likes me— she _loves _me."

He can't see him, which is weird— but he's _here. _So Ichigo continues.

"I will look after her whether you like it or not, for as long as she needs me. I'll give her anything she wants."

He pauses, and _this_ silence is serene, and makes him smile a little.

"And maybe, maybe someday…"

The presence is now very strong, but comforting. And Ichigo knows he's slowly… slowly gaining _his _approval.

"I'll ask her to grow old with me."


	72. love is

**warning. **omg the fluff! so sorry, but fluff is all i can write :D ah, inspired by a random schoolroom discussion. about religion - hence, St. Augustine! - and science and sexual reproduction. yep, school's weird. XD thank you for reading!

* * *

**poet**

"Kurosaki Ichigo," a voice boomed once Ichigo himself set a foot inside the room.

Scowling, Ichigo turned his head to glare at the person standing in front of the class. The teacher was lanky, in mid-forties and had a receding hairline. Quirking his thick brows, the older man leaned back to his heels and folded his arms.

"You are, obviously, late." The teacher stated to which Ichigo replied with a grunt and narrower eyes. "And you are wearing your scary face."

"This is my normal face." Ichigo replied, frowning deeper.

"I see." He turned to face the chalkboard and Ichigo took it as a cue to approach his desk. On his way, he saw Inoue glance at him, blinking her wide eyes inquiringly. He shook his head and quirked a small smile to reassure her. She beamed in return and returned her attention to the opened notebook before her.

The class went very slowly which Ichigo spent thirty minutes of it twirling his pen and scowling at his desk. "So, let's see, let's see." The chalk tapped the board, making a dull string of sounds. "Ah. Kurosaki,"

Grunting, the redhead lifted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Your hair called out to me, so don't look at me like that."

_My hair… what? _

"So, what is love?"

The class gaped, petrified. (Ishida's glasses fell askew over his nose.)

"Excuse me?" growled Ichigo with slight menace in his tone as soon as he recovered from shock. "I must have heard you wrong."

"Your ears are fine. What is love?"

The muscles in Ichigo's jaw were twitching.

"Come on, Kurosaki-san. This is an English class. Show us what you've got."

Ichigo did not look convinced; if possible, he looked more menacing as ever, ready to pounce like an angry orange-haired lion. The teacher, however, was undeterred. He even smiled.

"My, you're a shy type, Kurosaki-san."

A muscle twitched in Ichigo's temple. In reply, the teacher launched into a monotonous speech: "Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is."

The teacher smirked at his dumbfounded students.

"St. Augustine." He drawled with a grin. "Neat, huh? And it's long. And comprehensive. Now it's your turn, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo felt the back of his ears go red as he became the center of attention. He hated to be the center of attraction. Sure, he did not mind being popular with delinquents for they provide on the spot workout, but to be on a spotlight while in a middle of one of his classes, a big _no. _

The teacher wriggled his eyebrows, goading him.

"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds." Ichigo growled, holding back his blush - if it was even possible.

"Shakespeare. Neat, Kurosaki-san, neat." The English teacher leaned his hip against the table, arms folded in front of his chest. "So tell me, do you believe in love?"

This time, Ichigo lost his be-scared-be-very-scared-of-me look and spluttered, "W-What… What kind of question is that!"

"It is the kind of question that requires either a yes or a no answer. Simple, right?"

Ichigo was close to ripping his hair out. Or Keigo's intestines. "You've got to be kidding me." He growled.

"Maybe, but I'm not letting you off the hook. Too bad, huh?"

The redheaded teen glowered.

"So," The glower darkened. "Do you believe in the encompassing power of love?"

"I…" Ichigo was writhing in his seat; he was not good with words – he was a man of action. But their lesson required him to open his mouth and _speak. _"I _care _for my family and friends." He growled, nostrils flaring.

"And?" the teacher urged.

"And yeah, I believe in love." He snapped, glowering defensively.

Beside him, Keigo opened his mouth but Ichigo threw him a withering look that promised a _lot _of broken bones and a broken nose. The brunet took the hint and snapped his mouth shut.

The teacher smiled in a way that further aggravated Ichigo. "Have you been in love, Kurosaki-san?"

Amber eyes bulged and this time, Ichigo was unable to impede the spreading of blush across his mortified face. "W-What the hell are you talking about!" he all but yelled whilst writhing in his seat in panic, gripping the edges of his desk. His seatmates inched away from him, fearing that he'll start combusting.

"I like your reaction." The teacher nodded, impressed. "That's special. Answer the question now. We're all waiting."

Ichigo gulped, sweating. Suddenly, he felt weak, defeated, flustered and many other things he could not identify. And it was all because of a _stupid_ question. He could feel the stares of his classmates, most especially the curious gaze of one honey-haired girl. All he wanted now was to disappear and maybe, throw his chair at his smirking teacher.

"Have you, Kurosaki-san?"

But he refused to go down _that _easily. "I said I _cared _about my family and friends!"

The older man shook his head patiently and spoke in a tone as if he was talking to a sulking two year old boy. "I'm talking about passionate love," the teacher elaborated which meaning was apparently understood by Ichigo who now sported a darker scowl and redder cheeks.

Ichigo spluttered, "I-It's… It's _none _of your business!" He finished finally.

"Well, we have time to spare. We don't mind waiting, do we?" The class shakily murmured its assent. "Simply saying you believe in love is easy. But_,_" there was a dramatic pause. "What made you believe in love? You must have experienced its _burning _passion."

Ichigo barred his teeth.

"So, tell me, have you been in love, Kurosaki-san?"

He did not know why, he did not notice but one heartbeat, two, three, four, five later, he turned his head and through the mist of curious gazes and faces, he saw honey-brown eyes. They were wide with curiosity. And he stared straight into them, and they drowned him, pulling him in, dazzling him.

Five, six, seven, eight heartbeats later, he answered.

"Yes, I have."

The bell rang.


	73. the big and the bad

**pretend**

The big, bad wolf smirked to himself as he surveyed his cute prey.

Stealthily, the wolf slithered closer to its target, bright amber eyes never leaving its succulent meal. The amber eyes glittered as they continued its inspection, glowing darkly in satisfaction with the pink bunny's curvaceous body with narrow waist and pale skin.

He watched, very intensely, the corner of his mouth twitching in an amused smile as the bunny nibbled on a carrot, a pleased look crossing her pink-cheeked face. The pink, tiny bunny looked so sweet, so innocent and fresh that his mouth began to water.

Purposely, he stepped on a twig, creating a sharp sound. He smirked fiercely when the bunny's fluffy ears twitched. She looked around at her surrounding, wide-eyed and apprehensive. The wolf could almost feel the little bunny's wildly thumping heart and taste the wild rush of her delicious blood. The best part though was he could smell the enticing smell of her fear as the bunny bit her lip.

He could not wait anymore. The hunger kicked hard, causing him to shudder and tremble with want. He wanted her, he needed her, and he'd have her.

Now.

Growling, the predator advanced. Another twig snapped and the pink bunny turned, preparing to flee but _alas! _The big bad wolf pounced from behind a bush, putting all his weight on the bunny's soft body.

The pink bunny thrashed and whimpered helplessly, flailing her arms in a futile attempt to free herself from the hungry wolf. With a growl, the wolf latched on the bunny's bare throat, sucking hard on a flushed skin. Eagerly, large hands cupped heaving round breasts and squeezed them, eliciting a louder moan from the bunny. The wolf continued to bite, suck and lick at the bunny's neck, growling in delight when the bunny wrapped her legs around his waist and tilted her neck back with a moan.

"Mou… This is unfair…"

Scowling, the wolf lifted its head from her neck, his hands still on her ample flesh.

"What is?"

She pouted up at him, flushed and panting softly. "Why do I always have to be the bunny, Kurosaki-kun?"

The wolf sighed. "Orihime, we drew lots, remember? I got the wolf and you got the bunny. It's not my fault."

Honey-colored eyes rounded. "B-But this is the fourth time in a row you played as the Big Bad Wolf! I want to be the fearsome, handsome wolf too!"

"Orihime," he whispered, giving her breasts a firm squeeze, causing the girl under him to moan softly. He bit and sucked on her earlobe before adding, "You look better in a bunny suit…"

"Mm, r-really?"

"Yeah." With that, he tore her top, exposing her naked flesh.

"Kurosaki-kun!"

He smirked at her in response, bending down to catch a rosy nipple between his teeth. Arching her neck, Orihime bit her lower lip to muffle her moan of pleasure, grabbing Ichigo's messy, orange locks.

"T-This is my favorite… costume…" She whispered softly.

"Mm," Ichigo sucked on her breast leisurely, one hand on her small, smooth back, tracing her delicate spine. He licked his way up to her neck and kissed her below her right ear. Blunt fingernails scraped his scalp and back of his neck, causing him to growl. Orihime turned her head to kiss his cheek. With his large hand, Ichigo cupped the back of her head and put his lips on hers, caressing her mouth with lips, tongue and teeth.

"I-Ichigo," whined Orihime softly as he tore the scraps of her costume from her body, leaving her naked except for her small panties.

"You look better _without_ a costume." He whispered against her swollen lips.

Blushing, she smiled and retaliated by tearing off his skimpy, tight wolf suit.


	74. ctrl x, ctrl v, ctrl s

**wanted**

When Ichigo arrived, he found her, as usual, sitting in a white chair in the middle of the square white room, staring up to the small window where she can see the clouds roll by.

"Inoue,"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Kurosaki-kun!"

He smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other. Orihime stood up and approached the bars that separated them. She grasped the rods with her small hands and stared up at him, looking like an eager, innocent child.

"I'm very happy to see you!"

Ichigo stepped closer. "That's good." He paused, scanning her appearance critically. "Are you alright?" Her dress was white and plain. It went down to her knees, with square neckline and loose elbow-length sleeves. It painfully reminded him of Hueco Mundo, and realized her current situation was not at all different from her previous captivity.

However, despite of everything, she could still find in herself to smile. "I'm fine." She chirped, her lashes lowering. "But…"

Ichigo frowned, "What?"

She bit her lip. "I miss my hairpins." She said quietly as she lowered her head. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders unrestrained by the hibiscus clips. Her long bangs fell around her face. Ichigo knew there was something more than her worry for those beloved hairpins.

"Don't worry." He said quietly. "Everything is going to be alright."

Orihime smiled softly. "I know. Thank you for visiting me even though you don't have to."

"Don't mention it. I have to make sure they're treating you right." He said the last words with slight menace in his tone.

"Are you…" She looked deeply into his eyes, tense. "Are you going to be there tomorrow?"

Ichigo's face darkened, a muscle clenching in his jaw. A look passed over his dark brown eyes that for a second there, she thought _someone _else was watching her. But when he spoke, it was the same deep voice, tinged with fierceness and gentleness that only Ichigo could muster. "I'll be there."

She smiled softly. "A part of me wishes that you would not be there but honestly, I'm glad. I want to see you before I…" She paused, staring up at him with wide eyes full with many emotions. He could read some of them, like resignation, gentle sadness and understanding. Some were vague but he knew she was scared despite her accepting her fate without question. She was trying to be brave for herself and for her friends.

"Don't be scared, Inoue." He took her small hand.

She heaved a deep sigh, gathering her thoughts and gaining her composure, and smiled up at him. "I'll try."

"Your time's up."

A dark scowl replaced the gentleness on Ichigo's face as he turned toward the new voice. Hitsugaya's expression remained neutral. Orihime watched Ichigo's face with apprehension, her gaze darting between Ichigo's scowling expression and Hitsugaya.

"Kurosaki-kun…" She boldly wrapped her fingers around Ichigo's hand, hoping to calm him. It seemed to work because Ichigo snorted and looked at her with a small but strained smile.

"Inoue, I'll see you tomorrow. Wait for me."

She nodded, smiling.

Their hands parted.

:

Seven guards, one captain and vice-captain were tasked to escort Inoue Orihime.

The locks of the bars were unlocked. The bars moved by themselves, parting in the middle, sliding side ward. The prisoner was standing in the middle of the white room, looking up to the small, square window, watching the clouds passed.

Hitsugaya Toshiro and Matsumoto Rangiku watched through the moving rods, waiting until the bars stopped. Orihime remained immobile, still looking up to the small window.

Four guards entered the white room to bind her wrists with steel handcuffs behind her. They were careful not to touch her skin. When the cuffs were locked, the four shinigami stepped back and drew their swords. Slowly, the prisoner turned around.

Matsumoto looked away, face pinched with grief and helplessness.

"Let's go." Hitsugaya said without a gesture. He ventured forward, Matsumoto followed after glancing at Orihime sorrowfully to which Orihime responded with an understanding smile. It did not comfort Matsumoto; it only made her sadder. The guards surrounded the prisoner, two in front, two in the either side and three in the rear.

They walked down the stone steps. Their pace was slow and even. Five more guards appeared at every tenth step, their swords drawn.

And then, it happened without a warning.

Something pierced through the wall on their right. There were shouts of surprise as slabs of stone fell around, trapping some shinigami under debris. Thick cloud of dust covered the stairway, making it impossible to assess the situation visually.

Orihime had crouched to protect her head. Coughing, she lifted her head from behind her knees and looked around. The scene slowly came to focus, but it was still blurry. It was then she felt it, a familiar crushing reiatsu.

"Locate the prisoner!" Orihime heard Hitsugaya command.

"Watch your words, Toshiro." A new voice growled with hostility. At the same time, Orihime felt a large hand grasp her arm, lifting her up to her feet. She came face to face with the owner of the reiatsu.

"W-What are you doing?" she asked shakily, wide-eyed. "Kurosaki-kun –"

Ichigo's face softened a little as he looked down at her. "We don't have much time."

Confusion filled her face. "But –"

He turned her around and cut off the restraints around her wrists, and then, wrapped an arm around her midsection and jerked her against his chest, causing Orihime to blush. "Hold on." The girl clutched at his shoulders.

"Kurosaki-kun, what –"

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this."

"Kurosaki!"

Ichigo's face instantly hardened as he looked past her head. Timidly, Orihime looked over her shoulder.

"This is treason." Hitsugaya hissed, Hyourinmarou drawn before him.

Ichigo smirked fiercely. "I'm not your ally, Toshiro. I never fought for Soul Society. I fight for my family and friends. If I let you murder Inoue before my eyes – that's what treason is." He raised Tensa Zangetsu. "Getsuga…"

Hitsugaya prepared to block.

"…Tensho!"

:

High-pitched alarm rang throughout Soul Society.

Ichigo and Orihime ran. Leading her, Ichigo turned to a corner and met Renji along with a dozen men from the Sixth Division behind him.

"Ichigo!" the redhead shouted. Ichigo scowled, gripping Orihime's hand tighter. Rukia appeared on a roof, a hand on the scabbard of her zanpakuto. She shouted Ichigo's name and leaped down landing beside Renji.

"Kuchiki-san… Renji-kun…"

Rukia's gaze briefly flickered over Orihime before addressing Ichigo. "What are you doing, Ichigo?"

"What does it look like?" Ichigo responded coolly. "Get out of my way."

Orihime instinctively moved closer to Ichigo. "Kurosaki-kun…"

"No." Renji answered. "Don't get me upset. Surrender now."

"No, Renji. Don't make _me _upset." Ichigo growled calmly. "You don't want me upset." Orihime placed a hand on Ichigo's arm, biting her lower lip as she held Rukia and Renji's gazes. "If you want Inoue, you have to kill me first."

Renji's upper lip curled as he snarled, "Roar, Zabimaru!"

"Tsugi no mai – Hakuren!"

Ichigo pushed Orihime behind him. "Getsuga Tensho!"

The attacks met head on, creating a thunderous noise and mushroom-shaped explosion. The blowup shook the place as the ground below them gave away. From the thick cloud of dust and rubble, Ichigo, clutching Orihime to his chest, emerged. He landed on a nearby roof, looking at the mess he had created.

"A-Are they alright?" asked Orihime shakily, gripping the front of Ichigo's black robes.

As if on cue, Zabimaru pierced through the cloud of dust that had accumulated. Ichigo dodged the attack with ease, tossing his signature black attack without a word. The dense crescent-shaped attack hit Zabimaru squarely on its head and the gigantic serpent collapsed into its segmented pieces and the fragments hit the ground, creating more damages. The dust cleared as soon as Zabimaru hit the ground, revealing Renji, Rukia and several shinigamis who had survived Ichigo's attack. They were looking up at them. Ichigo narrowed his eyes and lowered Orihime on the ground. Rukia opened her mouth, probably to persuade him to surrender, but Ichigo disappeared in a blur and reappeared behind Renji. The vice-captain whirled around, and Ichigo unceremoniously slashed him across the chest. Orihime gasped in shock and horror as blood hit the ground.

"Renji!" screamed Rukia. Ichigo grunted, moved swiftly behind Rukia and hit her behind her neck.

"Ichigo," she gasped. Their eyes met for a second. Her lips moved, mouthing four words.

Rukia fell and Orihime cried out her name. "Kuchiki-san!"

Ichigo disarmed and knocked the rest of the shinigamis before flash-stepping back to Orihime, stopping her from running to Rukia's side. She looked up to him, wide eyes filled with tears, panic and disbelief.

He took her arm. "I'll explain later." Orihime looked even more confused. "We only have five more minutes before the senkaimon closes. Let's go."

"B-But Kuchiki-san…"

He pulled her closer. "She'll be alright." He assured her, glancing at the unconscious dark-haired shinigami briefly, recalling the parting words Rukia uttered.

_Take care of her._

Ichigo squeezed Orihime's shoulder to get her attention. "Sorry, I have to carry you now."

"C-Carry? But – Oh!" Orihime soon found herself hanging upside down. This happened before: he was carrying her over his shoulder. They reached senkaimon and before Ichigo could step through the gate, Byakuya and Kenpachi appeared.

"Ichigo!" Kenpachi roared with a manic grin splitting his face.

"Shit."

Poker-faced, Byakuya lifted his sword. "Scatter –"

"Getsuga Tensho!"

The two captains were forced to dodge, letting the black boomerang of dense reiatsu fly past them. When they regrouped, the senkaimon had disappeared.

:

Urahara was waiting for them from the other side of the senkaimon.

"It is rather sad that we have to meet again in such conflicting circumstance, Inoue-san." He said after deactivating the senkaimon.

"H-Hai…"

"Is everything ready, Urahara-san?" asked Ichigo.

"Hai, Tessai-san, Kurosaki-san's body, please,"

Orihime watched Ichigo return to his corporeal body. Tessai handed Ichigo a backpack and a blue duffel. Orihime was handed with a white, old wool tote bag. The auburn-haired girl stared at the bag before looking up to the two men before her.

"W-What's going on?"

Ichigo instructed her to wear the flat shoes he gave her before saying, "We are going to a place where no one knows who we are."

Her brown eyes widened. "W-We?"

"You and I," he replied, stretching his arms.

"B-But…"

"This is the plan, Inoue. I'm sorry. It's not a perfect way to live, but we are fugitives now."

Orihime sucked in a breath. "_You_ are not a fugitive. They're after me and –"

"You're wrong." Ichigo said softly, gazing off to the side.

Urahara started to explain.

"You and Kurosaki-san are now Soul Society's top targets. Unfortunately, they decided to prioritize you since they already have a ground to arrest you. After you, Kurosaki-san is next. Sado-kun is already in Spain. Of the four targets, Ishida-san is the fortunate one. He's one of the two remaining Quincy and that fact made Soul Society apprehensive of eliminating him. However, as a precaution, his father has already sent him to a European country."

"B-But… What about Kurosaki-kun's family? They'll be in danger."

"They would not dare lay a finger on my sisters. My dad is a former shinigami and despite his stupidity, he's actually very strong more than he let on." Ichigo told Orihime.

"What made this situation graver is that Soul Society is under impression that you and Kurosaki-san are romantically involved." Urahara added.

Orihime blushed.

"They will try to get their hands on your offspring."

The girl gasped in shock and mortification. "B-But we're not –"

"Not yet."

She blushed again. Ichigo glared at the shopkeeper, irritated at Urahara's merciless bluntness. Urahara ignored the admonishing glare and continued.

"Your best or probably the _only_ option is for you to run away together. Protect each other. Trust no one but each other. I've already put a seal on Kurosaki-san. But be reminded, extreme distress can weaken the seal and your reiatsu will leak out and it would be like waving a huge red flag while screaming 'We are here, come and get us!'."

Urahara turned to Orihime. "I know you are compassionate but do not, I repeat, do not try to reject a random person's injuries or fate or whatever you want to reject. Words will spread, the ground has ears and news has wings."

To Ichigo, Urahara said, "Do not transform into your shinigami form unless it's absolute necessary. The only excuse for violating this rule is when both of you are in extreme danger. Same with your ability, Inoue-san. I am not saying that using your powers will alert Soul Society of your whereabouts, but you have to be extremely cautious. More importantly, like Isshin-san's wishes, I want the two of you to live as normally as possible. Forget your family, your friends. Bury your past. Enjoy your present. Anticipate your future. There is no turning back. Your lives as Kurosaki Ichigo and Inoue Orihime in Karakura are over."

Urahara's expression became more solemn.

"Your sisters are in good hands. Your father is goofy but he is strong. Arisawa-san was informed of your situation but Soul Society won't lay a hand on her because she is a mere human who just happened to be your past acquaintance. Same with your other friends. Your absences will be noticed but eventually will be forgotten."

"Urahara-san…"

"Fear not, Inoue-san. Your hero is the strongest and the most stubborn shinigami ever. I am sure you will live happily and safely for a long time."

Orihime smiled at Ichigo softly. "I trust Kurosaki-kun with my life."

Urahara favored her with smile. "I know you do. Last thing and the last advice you will hear from me: enjoy your new life!"

Ichigo nodded. "We will." He held up his hand to her with a small smile. "I will take you anywhere, away from this place. I'm not the best man for the job but I will take care of you."

Smiling with tears in her eyes, Orihime put her white hand on his. "Thank you, Kurosaki-kun."

He smiled. "Things will get better, Inoue. As long as we're together…" He lowered his gaze to the small hand in his grip. "Everything will be alright. Nothing will separate us."

Orihime nodded, tears freely falling down her cheeks. She was not unhappy, she was not happy either. But like Kurosaki-kun had said, things will get better.

Ichigo reached forward and wiped her tears off with his thumb. Smiling, she looked up to him and put a hand on top of Ichigo's.

Together, they will make it better.


	75. she holds the world in a paper cup

**wall**

They said she is not getting better; she is not getting worst either. Her condition has not progressed, her condition has not worsened. She is stuck, imprisoned, suspended in space and time where nothing moves forward, where nothing moves backward. She is living in a world which is _not_ a world, but a space made of withered blue petals, broken shards of black moon and yellow sunshine.

The doctor tries to explain:

"There is a room inside her and she is there, scratching at the walls. The room has no doors and no windows. It is simply a big box and she is in there – scratching the walls.

There is no cure but to break those walls."

:

It does not make any sense.

Nothing makes sense to him at this point. What makes sense is that every time he gazes deep into her eyes, he is gripped by terrible sadness that sinks deeply in his core.

But there is nothing they could do but watch the shell of a person that is previously Orihime.

Through the one-way mirror, they watch her scratch the white walls, eyes wide with earnest blankness.

:

She is not crazy. She is just a little lost inside her head, and maybe inside her big heart, but she is not very crazy. Scratching the wall does not make a person crazy.

(maybe

maybe

_maybe_)

:

"I'm trying to draw."

"What are you trying to draw?"

"Not what. Who."

"Who are you trying to draw?"

"There is a boy I really liked. He is strong and kind, but he likes to keep to himself. He is the person to step forward without having to be asked. He thinks it is his job to protect everyone and it hurts him deeply when he is unable to protect his family and friends."

"What is his name?"

She stops scratching the wall and tilts her head to the side.

"I can't remember his name anymore. Even his face... It's sad, isn't it…? To forget the face and name of the person you loved the most… To forget the person you promised five lifetimes of love. It makes me very sad every time I think about it. So, you see, I always try to draw his face. Maybe it will make me remember and the sadness that drowns me will disappear."

:

One day, she stops scratching the wall.

She stands up from her corner and walks across the room. Standing before the one-way mirror, with her unblinking eyes, she stares at it for a long time. Standing from the other side of the mirror, he watches her.

She puts her hands on the mirror and presses her face on the cool surface.

He lifts a hand and with a fingertip, he traces the curve of her cheek and the outline of her lips, but she turns her face away and presses her cheek on the mirror.

Her lips move. He tries to listen, stepping closer to the mirror.

"There is a boy I really liked. He likes chocolates and he listens to American metal music. I think… I think he likes poetry and movies and reading. I'm not sure." She closes her eyes, her expression serene. "Each day, every day, these feelings begin to disappear. He begins to fade in my heart. But every day, I always try to think of the things that make me like him. But I'm running out of reasons."

She turns her head to the side, looking right at him, but not seeing him.

"It's sad, isn't it? After forgetting his name and face, I begin to forget the things that made me like him. Every time I think about this, I am overwhelmed with deep sadness. I feel like I'm falling down a well and I'm drowning. But a person loves another without reasons – a person _should _love a person without a reason."

:

The doctor tries to explain again.

"Each of us has a well inside our hearts. This is where our feelings are. The well is deep and its location is unknown.

In her case, she has fallen deeply into this well. She tries to swim to the surface, but every time she is about to reach it, the darkness below the well will pull her back to the bottom. She will try again and again and again but like every time she is about to reach her goal, the same darkness will grab hold of her.

Eventually, she decided to stop trying, and she is there, floating inside the well. But while she floats there, she is scratching the wall of the well."

:

But he does not give up.

He visits everyday.

She scratches the wall everyday.

Despite himself, he is glad she does not stop from scratching, because to him, it means she is still trying to remember the boy she liked by scratching the wall.

:

Eventually, she stops.

She decides to sleep instead.

She does not wake up for a week.

Weeks become months. Months become years.

But he does not give up.

He visits everyday.

She sleeps everyday.

:

She is still very pretty when she wakes up after five years.

And when she sees him, she smiles and it stuns him so.

"Who are you?"

At that moment, he wants to shatter the world.

:

He leads her to a room with a wall filled with scratches.

She stands before it, wide-eyed in wonder. There are some caricatures of small scowling faces. But what dominate the wall are scratches of one name.

:

_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_ Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun _  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_ Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun _  
_ Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun _  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_ Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun _  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_  
_Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun Kurosaki-kun_


	76. a berry strawberry adventure

**berry**

"URAHARA-SAN!"

"A-Ano…"

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

"K-Kurosaki-kun, don't lift my skirt – um, I mean _your_ skirt?"

"…"

;

"This is unforgivable."

"…Hm."

"I agree with Ishida. This is… How on earth did this happen?"

"Damn, stop smiling, Ichigo!"

"Um —"

"Shut up, Renji!"

Blink. "…"

Gape. "…"

"…D-Did Inoue just _yell _at me?"

;

Sigh. "I reiterate this is not my fault."

Scowl. "Bullshit. You're the only weird and suspicious person I know who is capable of doing _this_!"

"Ah, ah~ didn't you know it's against the law to make groundless accusation? You can get sent to jail because of that."

"I don't care! I want my body back!"

"Aww, what's wrong with Inoue-san's gorgeous body?"

Blush. Stutter. "T-There is n-nothing wrong with her body! What's wrong is that I'm _in _her body!"

Blush. "Um, I really don't mind, Kurosaki-kun."

"Besides, you already saw Inoue's body."

"SHUT UP, RUKIA."

Snort. "Oh come on. Same with Inoue – that's why she isn't protesting that much."

"K-Kuchiki-san!"

"I think it is time for all of you to vacant my place. This is not an amusement park, you see."

Glare. "No! Undo this. _Now._"

Long sigh. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? I am not the responsible one here. It wasn't I who created those berries. I only make cool, high-technology items! I should report you and have you sent behind the bars for making false accusations and damaging my flawless reputation!"

"Are you kidding me? What flawless reputation? You've been on the run from Soul Society for _decades!_ "

"Oh?"

"Kurosaki-kun… I think we should go and ask the fruit vendor where he got those berries from."

"Alright… But this does not mean you're off the hook, Urahara-san!"

Shrug. "Whatever you say, Kurosaki-san."

;

"ARGGGH."

"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun."

"Hey, it's not your fault, so don't apologize, Inoue."

"…Okay. This is really weird, isn't it, Kurosaki-kun? I can't believe that berries are capable of doing this! Switching our bodies… It must be magic or voodoo or… Wait, this is something alien invaders or an evil villain in a live-action TV drama will do!"

"I can't believe this either. But trust me; this is something Urahara-san _will_ do."

"Don't worry, Kurosaki-kun. The truth shall prevail!"

"Yeah."

"Ne, Kurosaki-kun, you're so tall and your hands are heavy. I feel strong, but it's…"

"Awkward?"

"Un!"

"Inoue, I know this is going to sound odd but… my face looks weird when you — when _I_ smile."

"My face looks weird too!"

"Is it?"

"Un! But I think I look kinda cool with my eyebrows furrowed like that…"

"Alright. How about this?"

"Hmm…"

"Sorry, Inoue… I'm not good with smiling. I'm probably ruining your reputation."

"Huh, what reputation? I _don't _have a reputation. Ne, Kurosaki-kun, I'll try not to smile so much! How about this? Do I look cool?"

"Er— I really don't know. I don't usually care about my looks – hey, that's better. You're going to scare Keigo if you smile. _I _don't smile, you know."

"You _do _smile. In fact, I like your smiles, Kurosaki-kun! Oh – this is strange; I'm looking down at you! I usually look up whenever we talk. And… am I really _that _short? I can see my scalp!"

"Well, I am taller than you. And I don't look at your scalp, so don't worry. But I watch you. All the time."

Smile.

"I-Inoue… D-don't smile like that."

Pout.

"And _don't _pout. Oh god."

"Alright! How about this? I think I'm not good with scowling…"

"Just don't smile that often."

"Okay~!"

"Your body's unbelievably light, Inoue. Have you been eating?"

"I eat a lot, Kurosaki-kun! Meat and vegetables are good for the body!"

"But you're thin." Blush. "I mean… Ugh, forget it. I bet you can run faster than me."

"I don't know why but I guess that's how my body works! I like to run, Kurosaki-kun! One day, let's race to see who runs faster!"

"Sure, I'd like that."

"Great!"

"Uh… Inoue, don't flail _my _arms like that…"

"Oops. I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun!"

;

Bam. Stomp, stomp, stomp.

"Please don't walk in with that expression using Inoue-chan's beautiful face. You are ruining Inoue-chan's beauty!"

"…WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH INOUE'S BODY? I'M – _SHE'S _BLEEDING!"

"You're…?"

"I'M BLEEDING."

"Calm down, Kurosaki-san."

"_I can't calm down!_ There's something wrong with Inoue's body! I'm hu – _she's _hurt!"

"Kurosaki-san —"

"You have to do something! I feel weird… What's happening to _me_ – I mean to _Inoue's _body?"

Slide. Hurried footsteps. "Kurosaki-kun, I came as soon as I received your message! What's wrong?"

"Inoue! I'm blee— _your _body's bleeding! Look! _You're _bleeding between your legs!"

"…"

"…"

"…Oh."

"_Oh_? What is that supposed to mean? You're hurt! I hurt _your _body and… and… I feel weird… Damn, I'm so sorry, Inoue. I was so careless with your body and now—"

"Kurosaki-kun – it's my… It's my monthly period."

"…Your _what?_"

"It's my monthly period, um… You need to wear a pad. Or tampon."

"…E-Excuse me!"

;

"…STOP LAUGHING. THIS IS NOT FUNNY."

"And stop making that face. You're ruining Inoue's good looks."

"It's okay, Kuchiki-san. I don't mind."

"…You know what, I'm getting pretty scared. Ichigo's smiling face? It's _frightening._"

"Shut up, Renji!"

"I-I'm sorry, I'll try my best not to smile so much!"

"Nah, it's cool – just, just try not to flail _my_ arms."

"Hey Ichigo, how does it feel to wear a pad?"

"DON'T TALK TO ME, BITCH."

"Huh! Orihime!"

"Tatsuki —"

Stomp. Stomp. "Who taught you that _word? _Why are you yelling at Kuchiki? And why are you wearing _that _kind of face? That's Ichigo's _ugly _face! And you, what the hell is wrong with _your_ face, Ichigo?"

"…"

"…"

"…Oh shit."

"What the – Orihime! What the hell have Ichigo been teaching you?"

"I'm sorry!"

"…HUH?"

"…"

"…"

"…W-W-WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

;

"You're kidding me."

"I'm sorry, Tatsuki-chan."

"NO. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS A JOKE. PLEASE TELL ME THAT ICHIGO APOLOGIZING TO ME WITH _THAT_ FACE IS A JOKE."

"I understand your horror, Arisawa-san."

"Tatsuki-chan —"

"_Oh god no._ I need a blindfold."

"Are you serious?"

"What do you think, Ishida? Do you have any idea how terrified I am? Ichigo giving me _those_ looks is making me shiver!"

"Technically, it's Inoue-san."

"But still… Fine. Where's Urahara?"

"Why are you looking for him?"

"This is his fault, right?"

"…No, it's not."

"Are you sure, Orihime? He's crazy enough to pull off something like this!"

"We already talked to him and he said he has nothing to do with this, Tatsuki-chan."

"I don't believe it."

"Tch. Make that two of us."

"Maybe Urahara-san really doesn't have any idea what happened…"

"You trust him too much, Inoue."

"I do! Urahara-san has helped us a countless times before."

"I know but this kind of stuff, he does it for fun."

"But…"

"Ichigo's pouting! Damn, my eyes, they burned!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Shut up, Renji!"

"Oh god. I can't watch this. I'M LEAVING. Ichigo —"

"Um, I'm not Kurosaki-kun, Tatsuki-chan."

"…Right. _Ichigo, _you better fix this!"

"I will."

"And don't you even try groping Orihime's breasts – I mean, _your_ breasts – UGH, WHATEVER."

;

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S LEFT?"

"Look, lady, don't yell at me, alright? The man hasn't returned since three days ago. I dunno where he went."

"Have he told you his name, where he can be contacted? It's very important that we talk to him."

"Obviously. The lady's giving me a scary ugly look. I bet she'd look better without that scowl on, though."

"WHAT THE F—"

Hiss. "Ichigo, shut up."

"Um, so sorry, Oji-san. Kurosaki-kun is – I mean, _she's _not feeling well. We're in a hurry to meet this man. Could you tell us where we can see him?"

"It's OK. I don't have his contact number or anythin'. But we drank one night and he told me his name."

"What's _his _name?"

"It's a weird name. But he spoke proudly. His name is Kurotsuchi Mayuri."

:

"Well, I trust you had fun in the World of the Living. Your experiment was rather… interesting."

"Hmph. Such disappointing results. I should have dissected them to discover what went wrong with the formula. But I don't want to waste more time in this decrepit place. The noise and air pollution in this place is insufferable."

"I still wish you a load of luck. Kurosaki-san… he's not exactly charming."

"Fffft."


	77. ESC

**chance**

She, oh, she is like a ghost lurking in the back of his head, an echo ringing in his ears.

The sun setting behind her, the two birds chirping in the background and darting away, the dock – they were blurry, like a washed-out watercolor canvas. But her face – the wrinkle on her nose when a thought crossed her mind, the light in her eyes when she smiled, she laughed, she talked about her strange dreams, her favorite TV shows, the way her lips moved and formed words; these, these memories were clear, so vivid that he could reach out and touch them with the tips of his fingers.

Memories are men's worst enemy.

:

Once upon a time, he was eighteen.

He was an ordinary boy with extraordinary teenage life. Everything started in one night when a stranger in black clothes stepped into his room. That encounter set off a series of encounters and dangerous adventures.

It was the day before graduation, he recalled. He saw her standing on a dock, facing the setting sun. Her arms were spread out beside her as if she was ready to fly away. He remembered that the thought of her flying away caused his heart to ache, and a hole, for a moment, replaced the place where his heart beat. And then, there was a puff of breeze. A swirl of leaves and petal surrounded her, totally obscuring her figure. For one second, he thought she disappeared.

The next few minutes were a blur; oh, he walked up to her and grabbed her wrist, he now remembered. He turned her around almost roughly, causing her to gasp his name in surprise.

_Sorry, _he grunted, breathless. _I… _He dropped her wrist slowly.

She smiled and asked him if he was alright. He replied vaguely, narrowing his eyes as he examined her.

_What's wrong, Kurosaki-kun?_

He rubbed the back of his neck. _It's nothing._

She smiled again, and he quirked a smile of his own. He remembered thinking that she was beautiful; it was a strict objective observation. The dock and the park behind them were empty.

_What are you doing here? _She asked.

_I saw you standing here. It was weird, the way you were standing here with your arms like this, _He demonstrated by lifting his arms at shoulder level.

She laughed, blushing, _I-I'm so embarrassed!_

He gave a small shake of his head. _It's okay. Come on. I'll walk you home._

She started talking about the strange dream she had last night, the meal she cooked for lunch and her favorite Laugh Hour episode. He was listening to her, smirking every now and then every time she let out a hearty laugh to poke fun at her own silliness. Then, she mentioned about liking sunset. He asked her if she wanted to watch and she said yes, _yes, thank you very much!_

They stood together quietly.

Glancing at her furtively, he saw her solemn expression. _Are you okay?_

She smiled without looking at him, her eyes fixed on the setting sun.

He nudged her with his shoulder; she laughed lightly.

_I'm fine. _

_What is it, Inoue?_

She kept watching the sunset with a soft smile on her face. He frowned, getting worried at her lack of response, and then she looked at him right in the eye, the weight of her stare startling him, jerking him out of his confusion. They stared at each other quietly. It was a strange, comfortable silence.

There was something in her gaze that told him she wanted to say something – something she wanted to say for a long time. With another smile, she shook her head and replied softly, _it's nothing. _

He narrowed his eyes; _it's not important. _She insisted. _But … One day, I'll tell you._

_Alright, _he gave in, quirking a small smile. _Come on. You're going to be late for your favorite shows._

:

He heard from Tatsuki that Orihime received a full scholarship from a Kyoto-based popular college. After much consideration, she accepted the offer, left Karakura and relocated in Kyoto. While Tatsuki explained this, she was looking at him.

:

A year passed.

He wrote her letters; he wrote to her every Sunday without fail. He wrote that he wished he could tell her what he felt as honestly as he could in a clear, concrete form, but he could not. You see, by nature, it took him longer than most people to put things in concrete form. So he wrote about the weather in Karakura, about his sisters and his college degree.

He never sent those letters.

:

Another year passed. Two years passed. Three years passed.

He left a trail of confused women and maybe, a trail of broken hearts. He dated once, twice, thrice but those relationships never last long. But those women had to be brown-eyed and auburn-haired – traits which were pretty rare.

"You're in love, aren't you, with a woman you could not forget?"

He did not reply.

"It must be really painful."

He clenched his fist.

"You could not even look at me in the eye every time you touch me."

:

_I want to see you again. I want to talk to you. I have millions of things I want to talk to you about, but I can't. But I want to say this to you: all I want in this world is to see you again. _

_Please, let me see you again._

:

This was the last letter he wrote and the only letter he ever sent. He waited for a reply.

He waited forever.

:

One day, he received a letter from Tatsuki.

It was straight to the point.

Orihime died at the same day her brother died. The car came out of nowhere. She had no one to carry her on their back like the way she carried her brother. She bled to her death while the sky wept and the sounds of siren ripped the air.

:

He never came to the funeral.

Instead, he boarded a train and traveled to the north. When the train arrived in the last station, he did not disembark. He stayed on his seat, closed his eyes and struggled to forget the world, the world that ceased to exist the moment she ceased to exist.

:

Two years passed. Another two years passed.

He met a girl. She was tolerable enough, and most importantly, she had brown eyes and auburn hair. She was kind, but not as kind as Orihime. She was pretty, but not as pretty as Orihime.

He closed his eyes with a deep breath.

It was callous, cruel even, to touch her while imagining a dead girl's face. But he tried; honestly, he tried to give her a space in his heart and in his life. But there was a part of him, a big, empty space, untouched by anyone else, a space for Orihime and no one else. In time, this space grew in size. Like a black hole, it absorbed everything inside him, leaving him empty. A man with abnormal lightness of being.

:

Regardless of his two failed, childless marriages and an illness that slowly consumed his body, there were two great things that happened in his life.

Yuzu led a happy life.

Karin led a happy life.

:

He was dying and outside, it was a beautiful day, the first Sunday of spring.

Overhead, the clouds were high in the blue sky. The wind was gentle as it passed outside the window of his hospital room.

Then, he heard a familiar sound of shoji screens sliding open. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was long waves of auburn hair. They were longer than he remembered. They were too bright that his eyes hurt a little. Or maybe his eyes hurt because they're painfully familiar. The familiarity struck him, shaking his very core, flipping his whole world upside down.

Suddenly, he was afraid.

He closed his eyes.

"Kurosaki-kun,"

:

A feather light softness touched his pallid cheek. It soothed him, reminding him of spring, of hope, of beautiful kindness.

Of greatest love.

Of greatest regret.

He opened his eyes.

:

She was smiling. She had not changed; she retained her youthful appearance, only she looked prettier.

"It's time, isn't?" His voice was brittle but it possessed the same rough edge that was truly Kurosaki-kun.

She nodded slowly. "It's been a long time, Kurosaki-kun." She touched the permanent scowl on his wrinkled forehead with a soft smile. "I've been watching you."

"Have you?"

She smiled softly as she withdrew her hand. "Yes."

He smirked a little. "My life's pretty boring, isn't it?"

"You deserved to live a full, happy life."

"Was my life really that bad?"

"I watched you. Kurosaki-kun… And it's very painful for me to watch you waste away…" Tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun. I'm so sorry."

"What are you so sorry for?" He asked quietly. A single teardrop rolled down her cheek.

"I should have… I should have told you." She said softly. "There were so many things I wanted to tell you but…"

"We can start again, Inoue. You and I… together," Her silence was like a dagger slowly digging into his skin. "We can, can't we?" he insisted softly.

She looked into his eyes, smiling. "Yes, we can. We'll try. This time… we'll take the risk." She took his hand. "Are you ready?"

He grinned briefly. "Is it wrong to say that I've wanted to die for a long time?"

She smiled affectionately, shaking her head. "You should have made an effort to live happier."

He looked at her hand, quirking a small smile. "I tried." He looked up to her. She squeezed his hand.

"Close your eyes."

Gripped with a sudden trepidation, he gripped her hand. "…Inoue."

"Don't worry." Tenderly, she kissed his forehead. "I'll be there when you wake up."

:

He woke up at the touch of fingertips tracing his scowl.

Opening his eyes, he found that everything was blurry, like a washed-out canvas of a portrait. Through the blurs of colors, he saw a shadow of a soft, familiar smile. The blurred edges started to take shape, forming a distinct profile until he could recognize it.

_Welcome home… _

She turned to face him fully, the image of her face clearer.

_Kurosaki-kun._


	78. now we're standing here, face to face

**cards**

Ichigo, as usual, is scowling and irritated and bored and –

"You will live a long healthy life."

His friends, however, are busy, hanging on every word that comes from the strange woman with orange scarf around her head, bead necklaces and thick bangles. She looks every inch eccentric, and unsurprisingly, he could not remember her name.

Instead of smiling satisfactorily, Renji scowls and eyes the woman critically. "I've lived _long_ enough. What else do you see?" he demands rather brusquely. Ichigo could tell Renji is trying to mask his eagerness. The woman, a traveling fortune teller, looks up to Renji from the line of cards on the table between them with a disapproving glance, clearly irritated at the redhead's brashness.

With a small _tsk_ under her breath, she gives a bored glance over the row of cards and says, "You are going to live longer than what is normal. Next!" In front of Ichigo, Orihime squeals quietly and bounces in her spot, waiting patiently for Renji to vacant the stool.

Renji, however, is not satisfied. "Hey, how about my career, how is it?"

This time, the fortune teller does not mask her irritation. "You have a _long, healthy life_ to work for it."

"What about my love life?" demands Renji.

Ichigo, Rukia, Uryu and Sado perk up in surprise. Orihime blinks innocently.

"You've got to be kidding me." Ichigo says flatly, his eyebrows twitching. Rukia's frown deepens while Sado strokes his chin contemplatively. Uryu shakes his head with a sigh. On the stool, Renji reddens brightly, an awkward blush spreading across his usually fierce face.

However, Renji's blushing face does not charm the fortune teller.

"Next!" she snaps.

"But –"

"_Next!_"

Ichigo grabs the back of Renji's shirt and yanks the redhead off the stool. The fortune teller nods at Orihime, shuffling her tarot cards, "You, you look interesting. Sit down." Orihime beams, blushingly shyly as she sits.

"Hmm," the woman narrows her eyes as she studies the new row of cards before her. "You will marry a strong man."

Ichigo's scowl deepens.

Orihime gasps, blushing brightly. "And?" she asks eagerly, looking up to the older woman with too-wide eyes, curbing her enthusiasm with difficulty.

The woman frowns, "What do you mean 'and'?"

Orihime searches for appropriate words. Smiling shyly, she continues, "Um, where is he from? Is he kind? How do I recognize him? Is he really the One for me?"

With a sigh, the fortune teller continues, "He is kind and considerate." When Orihime continues staring expectantly, waiting, she adds grudgingly, "Earnest and strong." The eager staring becomes longer.

"_What?_" The fortune teller finally says, giving up.

"I-I hope you could tell me something specific? What town is he from?"

By this time, Ichigo is getting more anxious, his face as dark as thunderclouds. "Inoue," he drags out, "You can't actually believe the crap she is saying."

Rukia decides to intervene. "Oh, hush, Ichigo. You're such a killjoy." There is something in her smile that further irritates Ichigo. Rukia turns to Orihime, patting her shoulders. "I'm sure he's from an extravagant town, Inoue. Far more sophisticated than Karakura."

Beside Ishida, Ichigo's jaw muscles make a crunching sound. Ishida sighs quietly. Why does Kuchiki-san have to make things more complicated?

"You think so, Kuchiki-san?"

"Yes. You should not settle for anything less. You'll marry a responsible, good-natured, intelligent young man." Every word Rukia says seems to make Ichigo scowl more.

"I believe I'm the fortune teller here, _girl._" The woman sneers.

"Oh." Rukia puts on her sweet schoolgirl smile. "Of course, madam."

The fortune teller mutters under her breath. She looks right at Orihime. "He is The One for you." Orihime gasps, clasping her hands together. Ichigo snorts loudly.

Orihime seems to vibrate from happiness and excitement.

"Satisfied?"

Orihime bites her lower lip, fidgeting. "Can I ask one last question?"

The older lady snorts, brows knitted. "Do I have a choice? What is it?"

"Are we…" Orihime's cheeks grow redder. "Are we going to be happy?"

"What?"

Softly, Orihime smiles, "Does he… Does he love me?"

Finally, Ichigo's patience snaps – not that he have any. Without a word, he takes Orihime's elbow and forces her off the stool.

"K-Kurosaki-kun?" squeaks Orihime, wide-eyed. But Ichigo does not look back as he continues to pull her down the street. Orihime looks over shoulder to her other friends; they are not coming after them. From her spot, Rukia is waving at her, Renji is smirking, and Sado and Ishida are silently watching them.

"Wait, Kurosaki-kun, they're —"

Ichigo grunts an answer. "Don't worry about them."

After several minutes, she asks softly, "Where are we going?"

He does not reply, stomping, more like trampling down the street. His grip is tight but still gentle.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

All of a sudden, he whirls around, and Orihime, not expecting the sudden movement, walks into his chest. It's like hitting a wall. She bounces back but Ichigo grabs her shoulder and keeps her in place against his chest. Startled, Orihime quietly stares at the little curve of collarbone peeking from the round collar of his shirt. Her heart pounds loudly in her ears, and she could feel heat radiating off her cheeks.

"Do you believe in fate?"

"Like the path we make is already foreordained?"

"Yeah,"

Orihime's brows furrow as she thinks this over. "I don't know anything about fate or destiny but I believe we always have a choice."

He squeezes her shoulder. "That's right. We have a choice. Always." Silently, they stand together. Then he withdraws his hand from her shoulder and turns around. "Let's go. I'll treat you to donuts."

"R-Really?"

"Yeah, I'm kind and considerate, and an earnest, strong guy after all…"


	79. love is so short, forgetting is so long

**forget-me-nots**

He is a strong man facing an enemy beyond his strength.

The service has ended thirty minutes ago but he and his child, a five year old girl with straight red-brown hair and pale skin, remain standing in front of the freshly made grave topped with tombstone, white lilies and two dozens of forget-me-nots surrounding the stone. Several feet away, his friends and family stand, waiting, watching, faces solemn.

It is a strangely beautiful day for such a somber occasion. He wants to think the world is mocking him.

"Dad," a soft voice murmurs.

The corner of his lips lifts in a small smile as he bends down and lifts his daughter in his arms, pressing her close to his chest. They are such a strange sight: a big man with broad shoulders and strong arms and a little girl with honey-colored straight hair. Next to the big man, the small girl appears tinier.

"Sorry," he says. "Can we stay for a few minutes?"

"Okay."

He smiles, and the little girl puts her arms around his neck, laying her head on his strong shoulder and closing her eyes.

:

"You can stay with us if you like."

Ichigo gives a small shake of his head. His little girl sits on the crook of his arm, her arms around his neck. "It's OK, Dad. I can manage. We'll face this together."

"I know you're strong, Ichigo. You're my son."

A deeper, blacker void fills Ichigo's dim amber eyes. "I know. I am really your son, Dad."

Isshin flinches.

Of course, they are _truly _father and son and they share the same misfortune. They suffer the same loss. Both were left behind, divided from the person they've loved, separated by time and ungraspable distance. Isshin realizes that he does not only pass down his shinigami genes to his son but also his curse.

"Ichigo—"

"Sorry, Dad," Ichigo sighs, rubbing the back of his sleeping daughter. "I didn't mean to…"

Isshin shakes his head. "There's nothing to apologize for."

His daughter nuzzles closer to his neck. Ichigo nods at his dad, smiling slightly. "I have to go. She's tired."

"Okay. Visit us soon."

"I'll try."

:

His young wife had contracted cancer eleven months ago. It is too sudden; it felt like being hit head-on by a bullet train. Nevertheless, she remained vibrant, full of life while in increments her life span shortened until there was none.

She was smiling when she breathed her last. She did not speak, only smiled while tears rolled down her cheeks. She had tried to talk, but she was _so _tired so Ichigo told her, _it's okay, Orihime. I know. And I forgive you._

She had smiled brightly and Ichigo, he fell in love with her all over again.

:

There is nothing more painful than hearing a child cry for her mother who would never come back.

Still, he struggles, he holds her, he cradles her until she falls asleep. He has moved her small bed in the master bedroom; they are two broken pieces which respective halves have been chipped away, halves which died, reduced to ashes and shredded hope and smiles and sunshine. Ichigo hopes they could complete each other's halves in time.

:

He watches the night sky from the window.

This is his wife's favorite spot. This is where she used to sit and wait for him to return home. The chair she used to sit on is now in the corner of their room, unoccupied. It pains him to see it unoccupied, just standing there in a sad corner, colorless, so dull he almost wants to break it in pieces until there is none.

Still, he could not bear to get rid of it.

:

One day, he opens the closet and finds her old clothes – pretty, dazzling colors, refine textures and elegant cuts. They are arranged by color and there are at least eight different colors. He reaches out a hand to touch them but something holds him back and he pulls back his hand quickly as though electrocuted.

With narrowed eyes that belie his grief and age, he looks at them and tries to remember how she has looked with those dresses on. He could no longer remember; the only vivid thing he could recall is her smile when he told her she looked beautiful while wearing them.

:

He thinks he's going to die old and alone in a farmhouse, surrounded by memories he does not want to forget. He thinks he's going to die around 70 – that's old enough, he thinks. He's probably going to meet his grandchildren, play with them and teach them to be tough and tender at the same time. His daughter is probably going to have the same difficulties his wife has encountered in her teens, being beautiful like her mother. But she has her father's quick feet, determination and wit and her mother's charm, intelligence and kindness. She'd be fine, Ichigo believes.

:

He has never told his father but it pains him to look at his daughter.

This makes him feel inadequate, _so _weak.

There are times when he looks at his daughter and a feeling unlike anything he has felt before would spring in his heart, takes root there and grows. His heart then would take different shapes, contracting, expanding inside his rib cage. Every time he experiences it, he has to put a hand on his chest and turn away to hide his grimacing face.

In time, the feeling comes with less frequency and intensity. Still, it is an uncomfortable experience. He soon accepts that the feeling is brought about by his inability to accept his loss, his failure to move on and deal with his grief appropriately. Maybe it is his entire fault.

Maybe secretly, he wants to be miserable for the rest of his life.

:

His daughter once tells him:

"You can, you know, re-marry if you want. I won't mind."

He pretends he does not understand. Instead, he asks her about school: does anyone give her a hard time, does she like her teachers? His daughter would smile, that special Orihime smile, and shakes her head.

"You're so odd."

He smirks.

"I am."

:

He is forty five when she marries a man Ichigo thinks is tolerable (but not good) enough. His daughter rolls her eyes fondly.

"You have impossible expectations."

"I want the best for you."

She laughs.

"I have the best dad in the world so I suppose having an average husband is alright."

This makes him smile for real. At least he has managed to raise her just like the way Sora had raised Orihime. Tatsuki often tells him his daughter frighteningly reminds her of Orihime (sometimes she'd shed a few tears after saying this) and this makes Ichigo proud. It makes him smile whenever he remembers that the woman in front of him, in white wedding dress, is made of half of his genes.

Giving her away has been painful; he is being selfish, he knows, but she is the only precious thing that Orihime has left to him and giving her away is tearing him apart. But he looks at the man – the soon-to-be-husband and soon-to-be-his-son-in-law. The two of them, the groom and the bride are laughing together, and he thinks, maybe, maybe it's okay. Orihime would not like me hindering our daughter's happiness, he thinks. So he gives in, even though inside he is breaking.

At least his daughter has found her other half, the half that will make her whole at last.

:

He meets his first grandchild when he is forty nine. He is such a robust child. He has his father's eyes and his mother's hair color. He is fifty two when another grandchild is born. Another boy. And a girl when he is sixty.

At seventy, he is bed-ridden. For such a strong man, it is surprising how early he succumbs to weakness, Ishida comments.

Ichigo smirks.

"I've lived long enough."

"No." Ishida says. "You died when you were twenty seven, Kurosaki."

Sado does not speak, but Ichigo could tell he agrees with Ishida's statement.

"I've been trying hard to get on for so long. I'm tired."

"We understand."

"I can rest now. She's in good hands."

"_She _made sure of it, didn't she?"

"…All this time…" Sado says.

"Yeah," Ichigo grunts. "I know."

"Hn."

"So, is this goodbye?"

"No."

…

"We'll see each other soon."

"Pfft. I plan to live until eighty, Kurosaki."

"What the hell are you going to do at eighty?"

"My life plan does not concern you."

"Fine."

…

"Chad."

"Hn?"

"Thanks."

…

…

"Anytime."

:

Rukia leads him to a field. There are several different small flowers blue, pink, and white with yellow centers. Most of them are blue. The grass is short and yellow-green and they sway, almost dancing, with the wind. Rukia tells him to, for once in his life, be patient when he asks her what they are doing here. He has places to go, a face to look for. She shakes her head, then she smiles, her eyes soft, almost-fond.

"You're going to be happy again, Ichigo."

He simply looks at her.

She waves and walks off. For a while, he watches the clouds roll by, relishes the feel of gentle wind against his face, hair, skin. A large chunk of cloud appears and covers the sun, creating a shadow over the fields. When the cloud rolls off and sunlight pours over the field once again, a voice speaks from behind him.

"You're still very handsome, do you know that?"

Ichigo grins slowly and turns around.

She is smiling.

His grin widens until his facial muscles ache. It feels weird to smile again, it feels weird to feel happy again.

But happiness, unlike any other happiness he has felt before blossoms inside him. It is raw, strong, sharp as a blade, digging to his very core. Suddenly, his vision blurs, and warm wetness dampen his cheeks.

Her smile does not falter. She walks closer and reaches up to his face.

"Ichigo-kun…"

"Sorry, I…"

She shakes her head, gently wiping his cheeks. "It's okay." She laughs quietly. "I miss you, too, Ichigo-kun. More than Laugh Hour and donuts."

And for the first time in years, he laughs.


	80. 100 ways to dazzle and delight!

**paperback**

"Inoue?" Ichigo pokes his head in the classroom, eyes roving around. They eventually find and focus on an auburn-haired girl – the only occupant of the room, reading a book with great attentiveness. Her thin brows are furrowed in concentration, her lower lip between her small, white teeth. With a green highlighter, she draws a line on a page and continues reading, nodding and muttering to herself every now and then.

Apparently, she is too engrossed in her reading that she does not notice him move toward her and stands himself behind her. She usually could sense his presence just by scent alone. Curious, Ichigo bends over to catch some excerpts from the book that has captured her undivided attention. He tries very hard to ignore the sweet scent coming from the girl and trains his eyes on the page. His eyes widen and grow larger and wider at every sentence he has managed to decipher. Shocked and mortified, he forces himself to tear his eyes away from the page and rises to his full height.

"Inoue, what are you reading?" The girl in question jumps in her seat, startled. She turns her head and at the sight of him, her eyes grow round.

"Kurosaki-kun!" She smiles. "You startled me!" Noticing the strange look on his face, she tilts her head to the side, looking adorable as she does, "What's wrong? You look very confused."

Ichigo opens his mouth and a few seconds has passed before he manages to form words. "I _am _confused. What are _you _reading?"

Her soft brown eyes blink at him, and then they lower to stare at the book. He does not, however, give her a chance to reply and quickly seizes the book from her hands. When he sees the title (in bold red colors: _100 ways to delight and dazzle! 100% approved and guaranteed by gurus!_), his right eye twitches, a blush rising to his cheeks. He looks down at his girlfriend, wearing a very serious face, the same face that has endeared him to her.

"Is this— is this even… legal! Does Tatsuki know this?" He trusts Tatsuki to protect Orihime's innocence. Isn't she the one who always make a fuss when Ichigo and Orihime are alone together, worrying that he might 'taint' her best friend's innocence?

Thus, imagine Ichigo's surprise upon hearing this answer: "Yes, she does! She's the one who told me to read this book." Orihime looks every inch innocent she is when she says this.

Ichigo, he is at lost for words. When he finds them, he croaks them out. "S-S-She did? What on earth— what for!"

Orihime pokes her chin with the tip of her finger, thinking. "She said this will help me acquire necessary knowledge."

This can't be right. Has Matsumoto 'poisoned' Tatsuki's drink? It _has _to be. The real Tatsuki would promise him castration and death by strangulation if he so much as touch Orihime in sacred places (well, she doesn't have to know that he already _did _touch those 'sacred' places).

"Do… Do you have any idea what this book is about?"

"I do."

Her nonchalance unnerves him. "I-It's about the best sex positions!" he all but squawks this – manly, of course.

She looks at him straight in the eye. "Yes, it is."

Ichigo is caught off guard. Oh what happened to his innocent, stammering and shy girlfriend? "W-Wait, why aren't you reacting _properly!_"

"How do you want me to react?" she asks, confused.

"I… I…" Words, where are they again? Ichigo struggles. "Why are you even reading this?"

"For research," she answers matter-of-factly.

His mouth opens and closes but no words come out. Orihime pouts at him, her brown eyes wide in her face. "Mou, Kurosaki-kun, please don't get mad. After all, this is for your own benefit."

Ichigo stills. Wait, what? He composes himself and in his calmest voice, he asks her.

"What are you talking about?" Did he just stutter? She dazzles him with a smile, and for a moment, he is distracted, but he tells himself to focus and not to let her charm him.

"Tatsuki-chan said you will be greatly pleased if I am properly educated in what position is the best and what positions are possible when a particular circumstance arises." She takes the book from Ichigo's flaccid fingers and flips through them. "I actually mark the pages I find interesting! Look, this position will work best during— Kurosaki-kun, where are you going?" she calls after her boyfriend's retreating back and winces when she hears his familiar holler.

"_TATSUKI!_"

"Oh dear."

* * *

**note.** 5,000 words to go and it's bye-bye to this collection b-but there's a new one i'm trying to complete! it's not for kiddies, though… thanks so very much for reading! :D


	81. simply love

**heartbeat**

Kurosaki Ichigo is in love.

As he watches her, he wonders why people always want what they cannot have.

He thinks she is too pretty, too kind, too generous, too much, she is too much. Her heart, her soul, her everything radiates of too much love, kindness and warmth, and he is afraid of tainting her and everything that she is because while she is the epitome of beauty and kindness, of gentle strength and innocence, he thinks he is darker than dark, and his life is a string of fighting and chaos and he wants to keep her away from all of that.

He always tell himself to look away, to step away, away, away, away, away until there is an immeasurable distance between them, until he could not see her, even her shadow, even a strand of her hair flickering in the wind, until he could not hear her laughter, her kind words, her heartbeat. But he wants her everything and more, he wants her, he needs her and so he stays close, close enough to touch her shadow with his, to feel the strand of her hair on his cheek, to hear the pound of her heart.

Sometimes he thinks he is selfish. She may not love him now, she may not love him later, she may not love him ever, but no one, no one is allowed to take his place: he will protect her from anything, even if it means he'd have to scare her potential suitors off, standing behind her like a wall, a sentinel that bares his teeth, eyes like the red light: stop, motherfucker.

One day he tells her I love you, I do, I fucking do, and I'm sorry, and I know you don't feel the same way and it's alright, it's fucking alright. When she tells him she loves him more than anything, more than food or the comedies she always watched, for five lifetimes and more, that she loves him in the way that when he is upset, her head hurts, her heart hurts, her stomach hurts. He tells her to say it again, and again, and again, because he thinks she is too pretty, too kind, too generous, too much— and she tells him again and again, I love you, I love you, I love you.

He asks her why.

I don't know. And I don't care. I love you, and that's how it would be, now, later, for a lifetime.

* * *

**note.** …this is weird, there are lots and lots of commas and compound sentences but! it's ichihime so yey! :D thanks for reading! :]


	82. that girl and tune clutch his heart

**cello**

Ichigo met Orihime by fate, perhaps by chance or coincidence. It was raining— quite hard, he remembered. And on her small back, she was carrying a man thrice her size. At first, he did not see her, small thing she was.

Shift, shift— then there was a voice, soft, tinkling; it reminded him of rain, wind chimes, shards of shattered glass falling together like shooting stars.

Drip, drip— a small puddle of blood accumulated on the ground which in minutes was washed away by the water. But he saw clearly the every drop and every bead of blood.

He remembered his mother, his mother's blood, his mother's body and— _Dad, Dad, come over here!_

:

Ichigo met Orihime under a waiting shed. It was raining— their town was in the center of a storm. The sky was darkened by black thunderclouds. Occasionally, a lightening would flash, followed by a clap of thunder. Heavy rain fell like thin sheets.

She had her arms around something black and something larger than her lower body, cradling it against her chest. Aside from her arms, this something-large was protected by a coat which was supposed to protect her from the rain. Her long hair was dripping wet, her short bangs on her forehead, some locks were held back from her face by blue hairpins. Her uniform was, like her hair, soaked, and her shoes made squishy sounds as she shifted her weight from left to right. She looked like she was enjoying the sound because she kept squelching her foot (left first then right) and giggling to herself.

He found himself watching her. He was too engrossed in watching that he did not notice her watching him watching her.

She smiled. It caught him off guard. He looked away with a grunt. "Did you forget your umbrella?" he asked and she giggled as though he made a joke.

"Unfortunately," she said. She had stopped making noises with her soaked shoes, and was now standing properly.

He eyed her legs. One of her wet socks had slid down her shin.

"What's that?" he asked, curious, interested.

"This?" She beamed at him. He could not help it; he gave her a small smile, it was awkward, but still it was a smile. Her smile widened. "It's a cello!"

He raised a brow. "Cello?"

"Yup, he's kind of old. That's why I have to carry him like this. I don't want him to get wet."

"He?" he repeated, frowning.

Orihime smiled even more. "Un!"

"Is he yours?"

"No." Her nose wrinkled. "Cellos are expensive. I can't afford one! But sensei did not mind. She said I could use hers to practice."

He raised a brow. "I didn't know you can play a cello." There were, unfortunately, a lot of things he did not know about her.

She laughed at this, the sound true, pure. "I'm not very good! But sensei needs me to replace her student who recently suffered a wrist fracture."

"I see."

"So I'm practicing everyday."

"Even during thunderstorms."

She smiles. "Even during thunderstorms."

:

Ichigo watched Orihime. It was raining— _drip, splat, drip, splat. _He knew from listening to Tatsuki that Inoue was clumsy and she could not handle technology very well. However, despite her clumsiness, her fingers were quite graceful and aptly skillful. She knew how to make people's hearts ache with music as she played the old cello.

Unfortunately, she did not know that she can break hearts as well, break hearts in simplest ways.

He was the punk rock listener type, but as he listened to her passionate rendition of a classical piece, he felt an ache somewhere within him. It grew slowly, dull and nagging. Like an ink staining a white sheet, he was stained, and he can wash it and wash it, but the stain will remain. What is this stain, this ache, he asked himself.

:

Ichigo was fascinated with Orihime. There was something curious about her; the way she looked when she was lost in thought, the way she closed her eyes quickly and opened them slowly, or when she bit her lip when she wanted to say something but can't, the way she laughed, mouth opened, head tossed back, revealing her white neck, the blue veins, the vulnerability. The way she frowned at her book, pursed her lips, bit her nails, exhaled, inhaled, or wet her lips and smiled to herself. Her smiles had a variety which was bewildering, to him at least. But what puzzled him the most was the way she said his name.

Careful, like she wanted to cradle it in her arms and protect it, saying it like a lullaby, a love song, a prayer.

Then there was the way her eyes glitter when she played the cello. Her eyes would darken, melting into darker hue of brown. They looked as if she was experiencing pleasure of some kind – amorous and carnal. He was sure she was not aware of this transformation. It was perhaps only a delusion, or a projection. But that look had fascinated him feverishly.

Just like now. The look was there, and it was mesmerizing, painfully so. It had looked strange on her innocent face at first but he got used to it and even thought it looked good on her, enhancing her appeal.

The music stopped; Ichigo blinked and lifted his chin from his palm and watched the quartet listen to their teacher. Orihime was nodding, a firm determination on her face. Her eyes were back to their soft color. She mumbled something to herself, tapping her chin, staring upwards innocently.

"All right! Let's try again."

Orihime sat up straighter, glanced around the auditorium and saw him. She was not surprised for he knew she knew he was always there, watching. She gave him a smile, a different kind of smile from the usual smile he saw.

And he thought, this thought flashing in his eyes, one lifetime is enough, just one, give me one lifetime, one chance.

Her smile grew.

:

Ichigo waited for Orihime.

They were alone in the auditorium. Orihime was still practicing. When she stopped to take a break, he approached the stage. Hearing his nearing footsteps, she looked up.

"K-Kurosaki-kun…? You're still here?" she said, blinking rapidly. He nodded.

"You okay?" he asked.

She beamed, nodding. "I'm nervous! Three more days before the festival… I hope I don't mess up."

"You won't."

She gave him another smile. "What time is it?" Ichigo glanced at his watch.

"Past six."

Her eyes rounded in surprise. "Really?!"

"Yeah." He grinned. "What, worried you'll miss your favorite shows?"

Orihime nodded and started to pack up. "I can't miss today's episode!" In five minutes, she finished packing up her things. Strapped to her back was the big instrument. It made her look like a child, but her eyes glowed with strength belonging to an old warrior.

"Ready?"

"I—" She blinked and stared at him, looking as though she only just noticed his presence.

Ichigo frowned. "What?"

She bit her lip, cheeks pink, her eyes wide, searching. "Did you wait for me, Kurosaki-kun?"

He swallowed first before answering. "Yes."

Her mouth hung open, eyes unblinking. She had turned red, eyebrows lifting in an expression of shock. She did something with her fingers, her thumb rubbing the pad of her forefinger. And then she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gripped a lock of hair, blinked slowly and smiled until a dimple appeared in her left cheek. All of these, he watched closely, memorizing, cataloging, filing them in a special cabinet in his head, recording these new findings. Carefully, tenderly, fiercely. The terrain of Orihime's life, he found, was endless. He wanted to find out more.

"…Why?" Breathless, shaky.

Ichigo glanced off to the side, a hand rubbing his nape. "Is it bad?"

"N-No! I'm just… just surprised." She grinned bashfully, flushing. Her eyes smile, how, he did not know, but they did, at him. "And happy." Her eyes were glittering now, bright like stardust. He decided this look suited her more. She was more beautiful, smiling like this, her eyes sparkling like this. "Very happy."

He smiled lopsidedly.

"I'm glad."

:

Something was happening. Inside him, inside his chest. There was a fever in his blood. It was overwhelming and downright confusing and somewhat frightening. But it was a good feeling; it was good because he felt it whenever Orihime was around and it was stronger and intoxicating when she was close.

The festival was here, and he was watching and listening as Orihime's group played their instruments. And like before, he was lulled into another time, another space, to a different universe. There were, he realized, different universes inside her. He wanted to belong to her, explore her, be with her and learn, travel, read, listen with her.

One lifetime is enough, just one, give me one lifetime, one chance.

"You were brilliant, Orihime!" Tatsuki ruffled Orihime's hair affectionately after the festival.

"T-Thank you, Tatsuki-chan! I'm glad I made you proud."

"I've always been proud of you, Orihime. Though I was really surprised, I didn't know you're musically-inclined."

"Ehe heh heh! I was shocked too! Ooh, I'm so glad I didn't mess up tonight! My hands were shaking the whole time!"

"See, I told you, you'll be great."

She blushed heavily, smiling, sweeter this time. "Thank you, Kurosaki-kun, for believing in me."

He nodded.

"All right, 'nuff flirting," Tatsuki drawled, causing Orihime to blush more and Ichigo to glare albeit his glaring lacked its usual threatening intensity because his cheeks were red. No one dared to point his out lest they incur his wrath.

But Keigo definitely nursed a wish to get hurt.

"Are you blushing, Ichi – ARGGHHH!"

The group sighed and started to walk away, already talking about what restaurant to choose.

"Is he going to be all right?" asked Orihime worriedly. Ichigo took her hand, startling the girl. She looked up to him, very red, breathing faster. Ichigo looked a little worried, but did not pull away.

"He'll be fine."

She did not pull away as well. She gripped his hand back, tenderly, fiercely. Then there was _that _look in her eyes. There was no Bach or Prokofiev. Just them, Ichigo and Orihime, and this space between them and this time, _that_ look was more intense, piercing, very captivating. He felt the fever in his blood intensify in response.

"Let's go?"

She nodded.

* * *

**alice notes. ** oh no this is late, very late but the prompt is just so so difficult! D: according to Word, _this love _has 48,168 words so i need 2,000-something words or less to complete this collection :D anyways, i hope you were entertained (and yep _godsend_ is next :p)


	83. fifteen stories, etc

**overflowing**

(or a series of unlikely but significant events)

His:

1. Hair, knotted, when bound is as thick as his arm. Sometimes it's dark brown – wet and sticking to her skin. Sometimes it's red – bright and golden under the sun, and she is twirling, laughing, sun burnt.

2. The arch of her back, the bones of her spine.

3. Paradise laughing, here in his arms.

4. That strength, thrumming under thin skin, through bones, hiding behind smiling eyes. Unyielding, divine.

5. Her cells, all those beautiful atoms, the small universes inside her, hydrogen, carbon, calcium, mitochondria, proteins, all the perfections and imperfections – captured in one slip of a girl. What is this magic?

:

Hers:

1. That one second silence before he says hi.

2. He slips his hand into hers, squeezes her fingers, lets go. Fleeting but his warmth has seeped into her skin, creeping under the dermis.

3. When it rains in June, she doesn't hold him. She lets him ruminate, watching the windows, small stones of water hitting the glass, shattering and trickling like tears. She pretends she doesn't see him shake.

4. And then he says, Orihime. That's when she holds his hand. I'm here, I'm here. Kisses his collarbone, his pulse, _I'm here, _his ear.

5. This is a constellation of scars, ugly and beautiful. I'm alive, they say. Precious proofs of what he had gone through, the number of times he fell and despaired and rose higher than ever, soaring like an eagle.

This is what strength is.

:

Theirs:

1. Love, and its other names, its other definitions.

2. A small spark, revolution and then, there are embers.

3. Hands. To fight, to heal, to never let go.

4. Seven hundred fifty seven photographs. "You kept count?" She laughs and takes his picture. "Seven hundred fifty eight."

5. "What do you think this is?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"Real. This is real."

* * *

**OH** WELLS. Just one of the impromptu stuffs I like to make, like those 'sentences'-fics. I know i'm lame please don't rub it in XD 2,000-something more words and 2 or 3 chapters left, please bear with me! thanks for reading space trooper!


	84. dear love, i love the way you breathe

**halcyon **

i.

And even in the  
darkness, she glows.  
A strand of hair on  
his pillowcase  
is a string of leaves.  
This is the truth about September

She is careful, like a scientist  
her fingers slide over dips  
and slopes, concaves and  
convexes, those graceful  
curves of his hips, guiding  
her eyes to the peak of  
bliss.  
She  
likes to kiss each scar, scattered  
like stars on his ribs, his back.  
The trembling and panting, and  
shattering and cursing when  
they entwine and become one—  
this is the truth about October

She breathes  
trembling like a flower  
Then she laughs, the sound is a blessing  
curves her body like a comma under his  
kisses him like the way she breathes,  
says his name like a granted-wish  
And this is:

magic.  
This is the truth about November

This is the truth about December:

She responds with silence, eyes ablaze. His confession kick starts her pulse, throbbing under his fingertips.

With both hands, he cradles her neck. Behind her are shafts of afternoon sunlight.

She closes her eyes.

And doesn't answer, only smiles.

* * *

ii.

It was May; it was windy.

And she was walking beside him, humming a song he thought he had heard when he was a boy, clutching his mother's wrist.

A sudden breeze came up, and at once, her hair leapt out in long shiny streamers. Startled, Ichigo stopped. The wind flung her hair about him, whipping them this way and that so he stood at a tempest of honey, reds and gold. The air grew fragrant.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun!"

The sweet smell moved away, and his vision cleared.

She was frantically gathering her hair in her hand, sputtering every time a strand lashed out at her mouth. Her efforts were futile; the wind continued to toss her hair about her.

He watched, fascinated.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt your eye with my hair? I'm really sorry about that."

He swallowed.

"It's okay."

She smiled as she fumbled with her hair. He gazed at the unraveling strands, curving and twisting through the air like a living thing.

The wind calmed. Sighing, she combed through the locks with her fingers. Like water, they slipped through her fingers. As she pulled the tangles free, she smiled up at him meekly. "The wind is so strong today."

"Yeah."

:

It was June when she found him near the river.

He acknowledged her with a nod. Seeing him looking solemn, she wondered if she should leave. Part of her, though, a large part, wanted to stay, help carry a portion of his burden in her own way. But she wasn't sure if her presence was wanted, needed even.

So she said, "See you on Monday, Kurosaki-kun!" She was dismayed to detect fakeness in her cheerful voice.

He looked at her then. Her heart ached with longing to stay. She felt as if she were drowning. It propelled her to move.

She put on the biggest smile she could muster and walked past him.

"Inoue."

He wasn't looking at her but he said, "Stay." He wet his lips, swallowed, looking strangely shy.

"Please."

:

July came, and with it came unbearable heat.

He found her in their classroom, still seated and staring out of the window to the sky. Across the sky was a thin streak of cloud, as if the painter had accidentally flicked white paint against blue canvas.

"Hey," he called out from the doorway.

She paused from her perusal and turned to look at him. She grinned.

"Hi, Kurosaki-kun! Why are you still here? Did you forget something?"

"No." He hesitated, then stepped in.

She went back to studying the sky. "The sky is so blue." She commented, eyes brightening. She looked so happy. But then she was always like this. He wondered how she stayed positive despite all the things she went through.

He wanted to be strong like her.

Then she turned to him with a smile.

"I wish summer would last forever."

He shrugged, put a hand inside his pocket. "It would be too hot."

She laughed.

"To be young forever, it's impossible, ne?"

"There are things that could last forever."

She cupped her face in her hands. "Hmm…"

"Hope, faith," he said, shrugging.

She gave him a smile, a sort of smile that told him she was remembering something lovely and sad.

"And love," she said.

He nodded. "And love."

A moment passed.

They both looked up to the thin strip of cloud.

"But there's nothing wrong with transience, right?" she said. "There are things that are beautiful because they don't last forever."

:

Near the end of August, new term started.

She stood chatting with her friends. When he entered, she spared him a glance with a smile edged in nostalgia. His mouth went dry, and he moved to his desk, sat down and ignored the ache in his bones to be near her.

Only Sado knew about the trip he had with Inoue one week prior the start of new term but he had an inkling that Tatsuki knew too. If she did, she didn't come over to pummel him over the outcome of the said unplanned outing. He had expected an interrogation. But nothing came. Tatsuki kept her distance, before, during, and after class. She didn't even spare him a look.

Sado didn't ask him about the trip, didn't ask if something blossomed out of it, if something ended.

He knew something did end. But what it was, he didn't know. He knew, in some way, but he was afraid to name it.

School ended and they found themselves alone in the classroom. As fate would have it, they were partners in after-class cleaning duty that day.

She wasn't looking at the sky or at him. Regardless, she looked beautiful in the sunlight.

He only wished she would look at him.

"Despite his ugliness, he was loved," she began. He stared at her, greedily taking in the sound of her voice, remembering one April afternoon and the unfinished story she had read out loud to him. "Her tears fell and at their gentle touch, he felt himself transform. With her love and devotion, she saved him from his fate. And he, who had believed he was doomed to love with empty arms, now lived in joy. For so long he feared his touch only destroys."

She looked at him this time. Unfaltering, soft browns. Her eyes were bright and her smile made her beauty too painful to look at, too tender to bear.

Most of all, it gave him hope.

"It was his fate but he changed it. He only needed to believe."

* * *

iii.

January began with a scarf.

He saw her across the street, rubbing her gloved hands together, standing in the snow, head bent like a purple flower.

The traffic light changed and yet she didn't move. He strode quickly over to her, startling her with his suddenness.

Her eyes grew round. "K-Kurosaki-kun," she breathed. "H-hi."

His large hands took her upper arms. "You're not dressed properly for winter, Inoue."

"I-I'm fine – oh, what're you–" She gaped, befuddled as he wrapped his scarf around her neck. "Ku–" The scarf covered half of her face, muffling her words. Hurriedly she pulled it down under her chin.

"Kurosaki-kun, you shouldn't have–"

He secured the scarf with a loose knot. "I know."

:

February began with plum.

She held it up, the first plum of spring.

"Love is a flower, the flower of life," she began, her voice husky as she sang. There was a cheeky smile tugging her lips, cheeks flushed. "You are the seed."

:

March began with oranges.

He saw her, chatting with the girl selling oranges.

"Inoue." She paused, turning to look at him. Her face lit up and she grinned, waving.

"Hello!"

"Where's Tatsuki?"

She said good bye to the orange girl and together, they walked in the direction of their street. Between chewing, she answered, "She has karate practice." She swallowed and wiped her mouth. "Do you want some?" She held up an orange slice.

He popped one into his mouth. "Thanks."

:

April began with a story.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy who protects," she began. "He is brave and very kind. He loves with all his heart despite the loss he experienced when he was young. But this boy has a dark secret."

He looked up from studying the desk between them. She leaned forward, a lock of hair falling to drape over the page. The scent of her shampoo made him think of oranges.

"While he is a boy who protects, he is also a monster who destroys. Because of this secret he is afraid to hold the one he loves. He believes his touch will only destroy her. Lovely things such as she shouldn't be touched, he tells himself. My love will only ruin her so I'll let her be."

She continued:

"And thus he is doomed to love with empty arms."

Someone called out his name.

He stood, thanked her and said good bye. She watched him leave, counting his steps, the unraveling distance.

The book fell close, unfinished.

* * *

iv.

Somewhere between July and August this happened.

"Kurosaki-kun, on the train, I said–"

"Don't say it. Because then it would be real and I…"

Her grip on his wrist tightened. He touched her forehead with his, his palms cradling her face tenderly. He held her as though afraid he'll bruise her, afraid to lose her.

He opened his eyes and looked into hers. "You're so fucking beautiful and such beauty… shouldn't be touched."

His hands dropped from her face, and he turned, leaving her.

As he walked home, he remembered the story, how he came to believe that he shared the same fate with that boy in that story.

_And thus he is doomed to love with empty arms._

* * *

**notes, notes.**

- That lyric is from the ending theme of Ghibli film Only Yesterday, the Japanese version of the song The Rose.

- Ume or plum blossoms are the first sign of spring: they start blossoming at around January until the end of February. Thanks wiki XD

- that tiny story is inspired by, surprise, surprise – Beauty and the Beast with an ichihime angst-twist

YUP RANDOM I KNOW. But I love this ok /hugs this piece to my bosom

And dear friends, this is the last one. Ah, 84 stories, huh, crazy, isn't it. Thank you very much for sticking for almost 3 years! not gonna lie, this collection is a favorite of mine. Thanks very much for reading space trooper! I hope you enjoyed them :D (now on to my other fics!)


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